


What Might Have Been

by Lyatt1941



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Carol Preston continues to be mother of the year, Everyone will be reasonably dressed, F/M, Fluff and Angst, No tank tops, Rufus Carlin Lives, The Season 2 we should have had, The Timeline without the Rittenhouse Trash stinking up the bunker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2019-10-12 23:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 116,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17476628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyatt1941/pseuds/Lyatt1941
Summary: Once upon a time in Rufus' Timeline, Lyatt were always together...this is a canon divergent fic from 203 onward exploring the what ifs that were our "saved" Rufus' reality.  Welcome to the new timeline!





	1. A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> A special thank you to Rachael and others for encouraging me to do this fic...I appreciate and am humbled by the faith you have in me...I hope I don't let you down. Another thank you to those who helped me work out the Flynn problem...going down the rabbit hole of altering timelines can be a bit daunting and mind blowing, so thanks for hashing it out with me. 
> 
> As always, your reviews are much loved and appreciated. 
> 
> Happy Reading....I hope you enjoy it.

“To think I escaped prison for this.”

 

Wyatt bristled at the sound of Garcia Flynn’s voice as it cut through the bunker like an icy dagger. It had been months since he had heard it…months since that sonofabitch had reduced Lucy to tears with his false accusations that she had betrayed him...and even if she had, could he really blame her?  After everything he had done, would it have been _so_ terrible if she had handed him over to the authorities?  Whatever Lucy’s protestations to the contrary, Wyatt had staunchly been on Agent Christopher’s side of _that_ argument.  No matter what Garcia Flynn’s motivations for his numerous crimes, he belonged behind bars.  The way Wyatt figured it, he had already done him one hell of a favor but not following orders and shooting the murderous asshole in 1954.  Yet, here they were, welcoming him, with not so open arms, into their home…their safe haven.  He never would have believed it possible, but Lucy had insisted.  How the hell she had convinced Agent Christopher that this was a good idea, he would never know.

 

And that wasn’t even the worst of it…after all that they had gone through to try to help him, after all the laws they had broken to get him out of prison, after the many risks they had taken to ensure his safe passage to their hideout, Garcia Flynn had the gall to stand in their doorway and deem himself “not impressed.”   Wyatt had meant it back there in Nazi Germany, he _trusted_ Lucy…but this? 

 

This was a tall order. 

 

Just moments before he had been enjoying his new-found domesticity with Lucy, but with the entrance of Flynn all revelry had ceased.  Unfortunate too, since the bunker had been a dismal dwelling for them all over these past few weeks…months, even.  At first, Wyatt had believed the dank, depressing atmosphere of the bunker stemmed from the fact that Lucy wasn’t there.  But after securing her safe return to the team, the whole place almost seemed lonelier.  She wasn’t herself, she hardly smiled, spoke, laughed, or joined in any fun.  Her nights were spent reading off by herself or staring up at the ceiling in her room, quietly contemplating God knows what. One thing Wyatt did know, Rittenhouse was to blame and he was damn sure determined to make them pay for whatever the hell they did to her. It had been months since he had told her he was open to exploring possibilities with her, but that exciting yet daunting prospect was suddenly and horribly cut short when they took off with Lucy.    

 

About three months ago, they had naively believed they had won - most of the upper echelons of Rittenhouse “royalty” had been exposed and imprisoned.  The Mothership, Mason’s crown jewel, was under lock and key with the Federal authorities.  All that was left was one more mission…a promise really…to restore the life of Amy Preston.  Lucy’s sister had been erased from existence…interestingly enough because of their newest roommate who was currently skulking in the corridor.  So, when the opportunity arose to get her back, Wyatt wanted nothing more than to be there, supporting Lucy every step of the way.  She had had “something to do first,” she had said…would “only be gone an hour” - but when that one hour had turned to several, Wyatt had been naturally worried…no…not worried, he had been damn near terrified.  He, of all people, knew too well that sometimes your worst fears are confirmed and the thought of losing Lucy like he had lost Jess had sent him into panic mode. He was just about to exit the LifeBoat when he saw the bomb…by then, it was too late. 

 

He didn’t remember the explosion.  His last memory was that of trying to call Lucy before his entire world went black. When he had come to, the pain coursing through his body was more than just physical.  What had once been their base of operations was a burned-out shell, Lucy was missing.  After an exhaustive search, Homeland Security presented him with a file…not unlike the file he received upon learning of Jessica’s death.  Lucy was classified as: Missing, presumed dead.  The photographs showing the interior of her home, her last known location, were troubling at best.  Her cell phone, easily tracked, had been left behind amongst the other contents of her purse that were strewn all over her kitchen floor.  Chairs were overturned, a vase was broken and trace amounts of blood…Lucy’s blood, were found on the scene.  There were no leads as to her whereabouts, no witnesses to her apparent abduction and or murder and after six long weeks, everyone had given up hope of finding their historian alive. 

 

Everyone except Wyatt. 

 

They didn’t understand. He knew she wasn’t dead.  Wyatt knew that as surely as he knew that the sky was still blue…which was harder to determine these days since they were living in a damn hole in the ground.  The sympathetic looks, the morose expressions on what remained of the team from Mason Industries angered him.  He was pissed beyond measure at Agent Christopher, Rufus, Mason…really just anybody who dared to tell him that he needed to accept the fact that Lucy could be dead. Whatever had happened to her, she hadn’t gone quietly…and for that, Wyatt was proud.  Lucy fought and he knew her well enough to know that she would continue to fight, with or without his help.  Still, he was beyond furious with himself for letting Lucy go out all alone when they knew that Rittenhouse was still out there…injured, yes, but still obviously able to deal them a devastating blow. 

 

And Lucy’s loss had been devastating.  

 

Without her, Wyatt had felt lost.  He stuck to a routine everyday so that he wouldn’t go insane with the not knowing. He wanted nothing more than to go and find her himself and absolutely hated that he had to rely on government agents who didn’t even know her to head up the search party.  They wouldn’t be as thorough as he would be, but Agent Christopher had refused to authorize his petition to join in the investigation over her disappearance, citing that it was “too risky” for him to do so.     

 

He didn’t give a damn about that. 

 

Risking a court martial, Wyatt tried to break himself out of the bunker until FINALLY, the Lifeboat was repaired, the computer systems back online, and a lead appeared.  When he did find her again, nothing could have prepared his heart for the surge of emotion that stole through him as she leapt into his arms and wrapped her own around him for dear life.  He had lost Jessica, but despite the odds, he hadn’t lost Lucy.

 

The next few weeks with her were touch and go at best.  After worrying himself for so long over her whereabouts, he could hardly believe that she was safely tucked away just down the hall from him.   Those six weeks without her had been hell, but Lucy, had had it much worse.  Not only was she blindsided by the revelation that her own mother was Rittenhouse, she had been told that everyone at Mason had been killed.  From the little she divulged about her experience with that sadistic cult, Wyatt surmised that they had been trying to break her.  Given his training as a special ops soldier, he knew all too well the types of tactics employed to break prisoners of war…and the thought of Lucy going through any of that made him physically ill.  She may have seemed normal to everyone else, but it didn’t take a trained psychologist to realize that she had been through hell and back.  She might not have given him a play by play of her entire six weeks of torment, but it was enough that she had confessed to killing an innocent man to prove her loyalty and admitting that she had no plans to return from 1918 that made Wyatt determined that if he ever got his hands on the Rittenhouse trash that did this to her, he would make them suffer for it. 

 

Was it any wonder, then, that after those first few weeks of a sad and depressed Lucy, seeing her dressed to the nines, singing her heart out, and looking happier than he had ever seen her in 1941 Hollywood, had him completely mesmerized?  She wasn’t just happy, she was stunning.  The joy she projected as she sang, put him in mind of the story she had told him about how she had almost left school to pursue a career with a band.  He had laughed it off as a bit of a joke then, but seeing her perform…that was a Lucy Preston he had never seen before and wanted very much to know.  Not that she wasn’t already incredible, but seeing a whole new side of her after all of their time together made Wyatt hungry to see more.  After so many months of dancing around the fact that there was more between them than just friendship, they had finally stopped fighting their feelings for one another and dove headfirst into the world of possibilities.   

 

After that night, Wyatt didn’t think that anything could dampen his mood.  The two of them had laughed and smiled non-stop since the moment they stopped the world together in Hedy Lamar's guest house.  Coming back to the present, didn’t change things, as was typical on their other missions. Instead of retreating quietly to her room, Lucy pulled out the game boards and challenged everyone who dared to a game of checkers…another hidden talent of hers that Wyatt had been both impressed and amazed by.  This change in Lucy affected the entire atmosphere of the bunker; it seemed warmer, brighter…until that all too familiar voice called out and sent the temperature in the room plummeting to the dismal cold of a winter’s day.  Wyatt’s smile, the one that had seemed permanently etched to his face since that conversation by the pool, faded as Garcia Flynn emerged from the shadowy corridor. Unable to stomach the sight of that sonofabitch pompously looking around their humble home and complaining that it wasn’t up to his standards, Wyatt leapt up from his comfortable perch next to Lucy and stormed off, regretting he had ever been part of the plan to break the man out of prison.          

 

“Just keep him on a short leash.” Wyatt spat out to Agent Christopher as he made his way past the trench-coated Flynn. 

 

A movement behind him, made him realize he was being followed, but the voice that called out assured him that he was in no immediate danger, quite the contrary.  “Hey, Hey” Lucy breathed out as she jogged to keep up with him.    

 

Wyatt stopped with a huff and turned back towards Lucy…his frustration apparent all over his face. Lucy, however, looked beautiful, standing in _his_ shirt, the dying rays of the sun illuminating her fresh face. Hell, she was radiant, even.  He could get used to seeing her like this.

 

Lucy gave Wyatt a look of grim understanding.  She knew he hated the idea of busting Flynn out of prison and since it had been  _her i_ dea, she was feeling his frustration all the more  “I know.  I know.” she continued soothingly.  

 

“It’s just seeing Flynn here with us. I don’t like it.” Wyatt admitted ruefully.    Lucy offered him a sympathetic frown, but it didn’t change the fact that the man who had tried to murder them for a better part of a year was now, officially, their newest bunkmate. 

 

“I don’t like it either.” Lucy agreed, “but he’s on our side now…he can help us.”  It was hard for her to determine who she was trying most to convince…herself or Wyatt.  She had no real reason to trust Flynn…but somehow, she did.  He had coerced, manipulated and threatened her her and her team, but he hated Rittenhouse more than anyone she knew…and after spending six weeks under that evil organization’s thumb, she knew it would be short-sighted to disregard Flynn as a possible ally.

 

Her unspoken fears that it would prove to be a disastrous decision were echoed with Wyatt’s next utterance, “Yeah, he _can_ …but _will_ he?  I mean, he’s got what he wants…so now what?”

 

Lucy knew Wyatt was right. There was nothing to coerce Flynn with now that he was out of prison.  What would keep him from turning on them all and murdering them in the night? As Wyatt had said, he believed that they were responsible for landing him in prison in the first place…and technically he was right.  It _had been_ Agent Christopher’s doing…she had secretly set up the ambush while Lucy went to meet with Flynn in order to hand off the promised information on who had murdered his family in exchange for the Mothership.   Flynn had no reason to believe that they hadn’t all been in on that plot and so what better way to exact revenge than to double cross your double-crossers?   

 

She couldn’t blame the man for holding a grudge, if he did hold such a grudge, but as he had tried to murder them several times…even going so far as to strand them in 1754…they were kind of even.  Still, she believed that Flynn’s hatred of Rittenhouse far outweighed any hatred he might feel for them and it was that belief…that tepid hope, that spurred her to throw caution to the wind and make an uneasy alliance with their former enemy. 

 

That shaky trust however, was a huge risk…and she knew it…and more importantly she knew that Wyatt didn’t agree.  In an attempt to smooth things over with him, she turned a bit playful,  

“Can we forget about Flynn for just like…a minute, because we have each other?” Lucy mimicked teasingly, her face dropping slightly when she approached him as old insecurities fought their way to the forefront of her mind, “Don’t we?” she asked uncertainly.  “I mean, last night…it was…”

 

“It was pretty...pretty amazing” Wyatt finished for her, a smile spreading across his face, the upset he had felt about Flynn slowly disappearing as Lucy drew nearer.

 

“That’s what I thought too!” Lucy laughed in relief, grateful to hear once more that at least on that, she and Wyatt were on the same page. 

 

He reached out and placed his hands on her hips, delighting in the thrill of doing so.  He had denied himself the chance to hold Lucy like this for so long, the act of just casually reaching out and holding her seemed to make him come alive in ways that he never thought possible anymore.  His heart pounded in his chest as she smiled at him.  That was a look he would never get tired of…a happy Lucy Preston.  Since meeting her over a year ago, she had been weighed down by anxiety and loss.  She hadn’t asked to be a part of all of this mess…she had run out of Mason Industries terrified at the thought…but they had pulled her back in – guilting her over her love of history.  After that first disastrous mission, she had gone home to find her sister gone and so smiles on Lucy Preston were a bit of a rarity.  Sure, she would delight over meeting one of her historical heroes, laugh at Rufus’ jokes…even offer him a grateful smile every once in a while, but the sad truth was, Lucy Preston was often on edge…they all were…and so to see her positively beaming was quite a sight to behold.

 

“So… “Lucy began impishly, “what do we do now?” she asked with a quirked brow.

 

“Well...” Wyatt murmured, his playfulness coming back full form now that Lucy was here with him, “we’re already living together.  That’s a pretty big step.”        

 

 “Yeah.  Nowhere to go but down, right?” Lucy asked with a giddy smile on her face.  She was happy, deliriously happy…but as happy as she was, she couldn’t help but feel a little insecure about where she stood with Wyatt.  She may have only been joking that they had nowhere to go but down, but the truth of the matter was, that was what scared her most about being with Wyatt in the first place.  Since almost the first moment she met him, she had known that he had been mourning the loss of his wife, Jessica, for five years.  He had blamed himself for her death and wanted nothing more than to fix that one terrible mistake that had led to her murder. 

 

Three months ago, he had stunned her by declaring himself open to possibilities.  Possibilities of what…he wouldn’t say, he only told her he wasn’t ready to say goodbye.  That had been enough for Lucy.  Then.  Out of all the relationships she had ever had - and granted, there hadn’t been many - her relationship with Wyatt was the most important of her life.  She had been forced to imagine, for six horrible weeks, what life would be like without him and she wanted no part of it.

 

After their incredible time together in Hollywood, Lucy knew without a doubt that for her, there would be no one else like Wyatt.   Their time together had been something out of a dream…but maybe things had moved too fast. Wyatt, after all, had still mentioned Jessica in that conversation by the pool…still admitted that her death had caused him tremendous pain and regret…add in the fact that he had gone on a desperate mission to save her not so very long ago…and she felt like maybe Wyatt would resent her someday for pushing him into something he wasn’t ready for. Sure, _he_ had been the one to kiss her, but a kiss was a bit different than sex.

 

Okay, a LOT different than sex. 

 

Maybe she was emboldened by the champagne, maybe it was just everything…her, Wyatt, the crackling fire, that long-awaited kiss that absolutely took her breath away by its loving tenderness…whatever it was, she had completely surrendered herself to the possibilities that she had wanted with him for so long.  So, when they stood there, gazing at each other in breathless awe after their first real kiss, transfixed by the desire in each other’s eyes, it only took her a moment to consider that what _she_ wanted, more than anything in the world, was Wyatt.

 

She was a little less sure, however, about what he wanted.   

 

While she had no regrets on her side for what happened in 1941, jumping straight into his arms had been unchartered territory for her…forget the fact that they were co-workers and technically on the clock, this was a man who, despite his once spoken desire to “focus on the present,” had steadfastly argued that he would never find love again – Jessica had been his one and only. 

 

His lightning bolt. 

 

So where did that leave her? Where did she fit in in the grand scheme of things?  Would he ever love her as much as he did Jessica?  Oh God…what if he didn’t?  What if she never quite measured up to the woman he had lost?  Would he be unhappy?  Would he regret that he ever betrayed the memory of his wife, by trying to move on with someone else?  What if they came back from a mission and she was suddenly alive again?  What would that mean for them? 

 

“I can hear you thinking.” Wyatt muttered with a smirk as he gazed down at Lucy, his hands wrapped around her waist.  “Don’t tell me you’re still worried about a Human Resources violation?”  He pulled her a little closer as he whispered in her ear, taking care to assure her that the coast was clear before planting a kiss on her forehead.  “Because I hate to break it to you, ma’am…we’re going to be breaking a hell of a lot more rules around here.” He added with a devilish grin. 

 

Lucy nodded her head with a forced smile, attempting to reassure herself and Wyatt that all was well, but not quite able to get her face to project that same level of feigned confidence…and Wyatt noticed. 

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked seriously.  He pulled back away from her slightly, his eyes serious and fixed on hers searching for…what, he didn’t know exactly, but what he did see there scared the hell out of him. 

 

There was doubt.   

 

“Lucy,” he asked as he swallowed hard and lowered his voice, checking the corridor to make sure no unwanted ears were eavesdropping on their conversation.  “Are…are you having regrets…about…about us?”

 

“No!” Lucy answered immediately, causing Wyatt to smile in relief.  “I…I just want to make sure that _you_ are sure.  I…I don’t want to pressure you into anything you aren’t ready for.”

 

Wyatt scoffed as he shook his head and grabbed her by the hand, “Come with me.” he said softly as he tugged her away from the spinning fan. 

 

She followed in his wake, her small body draped in the flannel shirt he had given her because she had been too cold in the common era during their game of checkers.  Wyatt kept a firm, but gentle grip on her hand, pulling her along anytime she hesitated or tried to bombard him with questions.  Once outside the door to his bedroom, he stopped, turned and folded his arms across his chest, frowning at her slightly.  “Okay…” she asked with a quirked brow, “why are we standing outside your bedroom?”

 

“Open the door.” Wyatt said simply, heaving out a sigh as Lucy cast him a curious glance. 

 

Hesitating slightly, Lucy wrenched open the door to the bedroom, looking back at Wyatt as she did so, trying to judge from his expressionless face whether he was doing a terrible job at seducing her or whether he had some horrible surprise tucked away in the recesses of his and Rufus’ shared room.  What that surprise could possibly be, she had no idea, but as Rufus was famously untidy, it was with more than a little trepidation that she crossed over the threshold and into the bedroom, determined to keep her eyes trained to the floor…or at least to Wyatt’s side of the room lest she accidentally spy a pair of Rufus’ unmentionables hanging from his cot. 

 

She needn’t have bothered, however, for when she stepped across into the room and lifted her gaze to where she knew Wyatt’s bed _had_ been, she discovered it wasn’t there at all. Gaping slightly, she cast a glance around the room to find that not only was there not an unruly mess spilling over onto Wyatt’s claimed piece of real estate, there was no claimed _side_ of the room at all.  Instead, both cots had been pushed together and made up into one large bed, centered along the back wall that was decorated with a very rustic American flag mural. 

 

Biting her lip to hide her smile, Lucy turned slightly to Wyatt who was still standing by the door, arms crossed, observing the scene with the hint of a devilish smirk. Quirking her lip slightly, Lucy tilted her head back to the bed and teased, “So…you and Rufus, huh?”

 

Wyatt rolled his eyes at her joke, though it was clear from the grin on his face that he wasn’t the least bit annoyed.  Sticking his hands in his pockets, he admitted, “While you were in the shower, Rufus and I did a bit of redecorating, yeah.” 

 

Lucy nodded slowly, understanding what Wyatt was getting at, but hardly daring to presume anything…it could be that this was an arrangement made just for tonight, after all.  “So…” was all she managed to get out, hoping that Wyatt would fill in the rest. 

 

“So,” he sighed as he took a step into the room, “I was just thinking…we already live together…but why not just actually live together?  Rufus and Jiya are always kicking one of us out of our rooms anyway…why not just…” Lucy frowned slightly as she cast her eyes down to the floor, sending a jolt of panic through Wyatt, “Unless you…you don’t want to?”

 

“No…it’s…it’s fine, Wyatt.” Lucy nodded. 

 

“Then why do I get the feeling that it’s not fine?” Wyatt said with a bit of hesitancy.    

 

Heaving a sigh, Lucy clenched her eyes shut and felt all the burden of her insecurities crashing down upon her like a fifty-ton weight.  This was silly, she knew it was…but if she didn’t say something, she would always be wondering…always be feeling like…

 

“Always be feeling like what?” Wyatt asked with real concern.

 

Lucy opened her eyes and saw that Wyatt was stooping slightly to look at her directly, alarm written all over his face.  “Did I say that out loud?” she gasped.  As Wyatt nodded, Lucy groaned slightly as she spun around took a seat at on a chair situated next to the door at a small table.  She covered her face with her hands to hide her momentary embarrassment before clasping them in her lap and wringing them nervously, “Wyatt, I…I just want to make sure you’re ready for this.  I…I know we sort of jumped right into the deep end but we don’t have to…”

 

“We don’t have to what?” asked Wyatt who was feeling more and more unsure of his attempt at a surprise by the second.  “Lucy, I…I thought you weren’t having any regrets?”

 

“I’m not!” Lucy insisted, but with Wyatt’s doubtful look she continued with a hope to reassure him, “It’s not _me_ I ’m worried about.”  Her eyes followed Wyatt as he moved towards her and took a seat opposite her. “You spent six years mourning Jessica…and we…we’ve been together for less than 48 hours…I just don’t want you to feel pressured into doing this because it’s convenient.”

 

Wyatt bit his lip in regret. His quip about Rufus and Jiya had obviously given Lucy the wrong impression, “I didn’t mean for it to sound that way” Wyatt explained, “I was just trying to…” he trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words. 

 

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, Wyatt…I do.  But it wasn’t that long ago that you were trying to save Jessica…I just want you to be sure that this is what _you_ want.  I mean, we went from possibilities to living together...are you sure it’s not too soon for you?”

 

Wyatt didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity.  When he did speak, his voice was wracked with emotion, “You’re right. Maybe it _was_ too soon for us.”   Lucy nodded, her heart breaking slightly as he confirmed her worst fears.  “Or maybe” Wyatt continued, “it had just been too damn long.”  Lucy’s eyes darted up to meet his as he grasped onto her hand, “I have no regrets about what happened in ’41, Lucy.” And to further emphasize his point, further he added firmly, “None.”

 

Tears welled up in Lucy’s eyes as she nodded swiftly, angry at herself for allowing her stupid fears to ruin what Wyatt had obviously intended as a happy surprise.  “I’m sorry.” She muttered as she attempted to calm herself, “I just know how you felt about Jessica…and I guess, I just…I don’t want you to…I mean, I don’t expect to…”

 

“Lucy…” Wyatt muttered gently as he leaned forward attempting to interrupt her.

 

“No, Wyatt…let me say this…I _need_ to say this.” Lucy said firmly, doing her darndest not to look at him as she did so.  Wyatt sat back reluctantly, something that was not lost on Lucy.  With an exasperated sigh, “Wyatt, I just…I need to know for my own peace of mind…that night you stole the Lifeboat to save Jessica, you said it would be worth losing all of this…” she swallowed hard,  “losing me…” she covered her face with her hands almost embarrassed to admit that she was threatened by a ghost.  “I just need to know…would you do it again…now?”

 

“Lucy, if you had asked me to stay…” Wyatt began.  Lucy, however scoffed and rolled her eyes as Wyatt lunged forward from the chair and knelt before her, turning her gently to face him, “I mean it, Lucy.  I thought I was only risking my own feelings.”  He rubbed a rough hand across his neck as he stood up and began pacing the small room.  “You were still engaged to Dr. Whatshisface…”

 

“Noah” Lucy supplied.

 

“Yeah, him.” Wyatt paused as he gave her a knowing look, “I just…I thought things might be easier…that if I had Jessica back that maybe what I was feeling for you would just…” he swallowed hard, “It wasn’t until that night that I realized that you might have had feelings for me too…but instead of asking me to stay you…”

 

“I wished you luck.” Lucy muttered.  She had wanted to ask him to stay, of course she did…but as Wyatt had rightly pointed out earlier, she had still been engaged to the man she didn’t even know and under the distinct impression that Wyatt only saw her as a team mate and friend.  Her own self-doubt had exacerbated his…weren’t they quite the pair?

 

Smiling sheepishly at herself, Lucy looked up at Wyatt…Wyatt, who had been spent the morning turning his bedroom in _their_ bedroom, Wyatt who was now looking at her with so much love and concern it made her go a bit weak in the knees. 

 

“I guess I kind of ruined your surprise…” Lucy admitted with a sigh as she looked around the rearranged room.  “I’m sorry, Wyatt.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, Lucy.” he implored.  “I understand why you were worried…there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t kick myself for not being a little more honest with you…and myself.”

 

“That makes two of us.” Lucy conceded with a smirk.  “To think that you would have never had to steal the Lifeboat if I…we…had just admitted what we felt.”

 

 Wyatt frowned as he took a step away from her, “I needed to try, Lucy.” he admitted ruefully, “Otherwise…I would always be wondering...”

 

Lucy’s heart nearly stopped in her chest.  The same fear that had nearly paralyzed her as she sat, trapped in that sinking car so many years ago, had come back full force.  The silence of their room roared in her ear like the thunderous icy cold water that pounded down upon her as she struggled vainly to unbuckle her seatbelt. She didn’t want to ask the question that most weighed on her mind, yet she knew that if she didn’t, she would never be able to fully trust their relationship, no matter what Wyatt said about lightning bolts from the heavens.  With a hesitancy that spoke to how very little she wanted to hear what could very well be a hard truth she asked, “And…and you don’t wonder anymore? If Jessica came back right now…”

 

Wyatt let out a heavy sigh as he turned away from her, “I don’t want to think about that, Lucy.  _Why_ do we have to think about that?” he added angrily.  “Why can’t we just…”  Wyatt bit his lip in frustration, speaking more to the wall than to Lucy when he added,  “In the unlikely event that we came back from a mission and Jessica was suddenly alive…I would be married and you…”

 

“I would be the other woman.” Lucy said with a soft sob.  “But Wyatt…don’t you see?  You _need_ to think about that.  _We_ need to think about that.  With what we do, anything is possible.”  Lucy swallowed hard as she weighed her next words, hardly believing she was going to risk her happiness with Wyatt over a hypothetical that could very well never happen. She hated the idea that at any moment, it could be ripped away by the return of his wife.  She would never ask him to divorce the woman he had made vows to, the woman he had intended to spend the rest of his life with…but she also couldn’t carry through with a relationship if, in the unlikely circumstance, the wife he had loved and lost was suddenly not so lost, causing her to step aside.  No matter what they felt for each other, Jessica would hold claim over him, legally and she wouldn’t have the heart to stand as an obstacle between them…not after he had mourned her loss for six years.  She didn’t want to ask him to make that choice…but what would happen if Wyatt had suddenly found himself married again?  What kind of choice would he make?  No matter how much she feared his answer, she needed to know. Taking a steadying breath, Lucy painfully confessed “I just…I need to know where I stand…with you.”

 

Wyatt didn’t respond. The silence seemed to stretch beyond the centuries as they stood there gazing at each other; Lucy’s face stained with tears that she had shed…both happy and sad… while Wyatt’s was wrenched in agony as he considered what the consequences of Jessica’s improbable yet disastrous return would mean for his fledgling relationship with Lucy.  He knew she was right…it _was_ something they would need to think about, no matter how much he didn’t want to.   It had taken one mission, one failed mission to erase her sister from existence…would it be _that_ crazy to think that one mission could change their entire future together? 

 

Yes…it would be that crazy. 

 

He had already done everything he could to try to bring her back and it hadn’t worked.  She was gone…and therefore not a threat to her or to them. There was no need to worry.  He wanted to tell Lucy everything would be okay, that she had no reason to worry about his devotion to her, that she made him happier than he had been in years, that his life had meaning again now that she was here with him, but whatever assurances he had wanted to offer Lucy in the face of her fears and insecurities, would have to wait. 

 

He had just opened his mouth to speak when the sound of sirens reverberated off the metal walls of the bunker. A knowing look was shared between them, each of them silently communicating to the other that no matter what was happening between them, no matter what Rittenhouse had in store for them, they would face it as they always did…together. 


	2. Superstition and Witchcraft

The blaring noise of the sirens only got louder as they reached the silo where the LifeBoat sat awaiting their departure.  A bit on edge from his conversation with Lucy, Wyatt strode forward a little ahead of her as they made their way down the hall together.  While on some level he understood where she was coming from, it frustrated the hell out of him that she was so focused on hypotheticals that she couldn’t just relax and enjoy them being together.

 

They had waited so damn long for this.  They deserved to be happy.    

 

But she did have a point. 

 

The truth of the matter was, Wyatt had no idea how he would react if Jessica had come back right now. No matter what he felt for Lucy, it was Jessica who was his wife…and what could he do?  Divorce her after being the reason she was murdered?  Walk away from their marriage?  How would that be fair to her when and if, in her reality, they were still happily married?  Could he throw all the vows they made to each other out the window and continue on in a relationship with Lucy?  Have an affair?  The thought made him sick.  He could never do that to Lucy.  Hell, he couldn’t do that to either one of them.    

 

This was exactly why he didn’t want to think about these things…hell, this was exactly what had kept him from acting on his feelings for Lucy in the first place.  It took him six damn years, six damn years to finally allow himself the chance to move on and the minute he decided to go all in, the one he wanted to move on with is telling him he needs to think about Jessica. Why should he?  He had tried to bring back Jessica and it didn’t work, so why the hell should Lucy get so damn worked up over it?  There was nothing to be afraid of.  Jessica was dead and that was that. 

 

“Looking a little tense there, Wyatt…” Flynn observed lazily.  He was sitting back in a chair, reading a book, his feet propped up on another chair situated in front of him, completely unperturbed by the flashing lights and shrieking alarms. 

 

Ignoring him, Wyatt marched straight up to the command center, as they called it, and addressed Mason, “What are we looking at?”

 

Swinging around in his chair and disabling the alarm, Mason reported, “The Mothership jumped to Salem, Massachusetts - September 22, 1692.”

 

“That’s the height of the witch trials…” Lucy muttered breathlessly behind him. 

 

Wyatt turned and gave Lucy a concerned look as Rufus muttered, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

 

Neither did Wyatt. What the hell would Rittenhouse want with something like the witch trials?  Even if you didn’t pay attention in history class, the story about Salem, witches, and their executions were tales that inspired movies, books, and plays…and none of them made Wyatt feel any better about being there, front and center, for the whole ugly ordeal.

 

As they all gathered around Agent Christopher, Wyatt noted with annoyance that Flynn had joined them in their huddle. “What the hell do you want?” he spat out angrily as Flynn elbowed his way in between Rufus and Lucy. 

 

“Well, I’m part of the team now, aren’t I?” Flynn asked silkily.

 

Wyatt and Rufus exchanged looks as Agent Christopher refuted his assumption, “You are here for intel purposes only, not muscle.  You are staying put.”

 

“Oh, come on, guys.” Flynn sighed in exasperation, “Fighting the good fight through time is kinda my wheelhouse.”  As if to further emphasize his point, he added, “And I know all about Salem.” He looked around the room at them importantly as if his knowledge about the witch trials would guarantee him a place in the Lifeboat.

 

“Burn a couple witches in your day?” Rufus observed snarkily. 

 

“Witches weren’t burned…they were hanged.” Flynn corrected in annoyance. “Of the accused, only those who refused to confess were executed and it all came to a head on the 22nd, when then final victims were hung from the same tree…one by one.”

 

Instinctively the entire room looked at Lucy, “He’s right…that’s all true.” she admitted with a shrug. 

 

“See, I am useful.” Flynn said with a satisfied smirk.  “I would be an invaluable asset on this mission…which, if I may say is something you desperately need.”  He looked towards Lucy, “Not to point out the obvious, but you lived with your mother how long, and you didn’t even know she was Rittenhouse?” 

 

“You leave her the hell alone.” Wyatt spat back. “Lucy could have told us about the witch trials, she’s the historian.  If you wanted to be really useful, you’d tell us why the hell Rittenhouse is in Salem to begin with.”  Wyatt looked at Lucy, “Isn’t that the whole reason we busted his ass out of prison? To tell us things we _don’t_ know?”

 

“Wyatt…” Lucy began.

 

“Seems to me, he could have stayed in there to rot.” Wyatt gritted out angrily as he brushed past Flynn and made his way to the weapons locker.  “We don’t need another historian…and we sure as hell don’t need another soldier.”

 

“You’re making a mistake.” Flynn entreated.  “As I said, I know Salem…”

 

“Yeah, yeah…we’ve all seen _The Crucible._   You’re still the guy who had me shot.”  

 

“We’re on the same side now, Rufus.” Flynn offered in supplication, “what’s that saying?  Two heads are better than one?”  No one could refute the truth of that statement, but Wyatt was having none of it. 

 

“Say we were crazy enough to let you go along.  Who would you replace?  Me?” Wyatt scoffed as he slipped his arms through his shoulder holster, “Lucy?” Wyatt let out a derisive laugh as Rufus raised his eyebrows, “We’re already taking a risk going after these assholes…why in the hell would we take an even greater risk by bringing you along?” 

 

“I could be another gun…” Flynn said with a shrug.

 

At that, Agent Christopher laughed out loud, “That is completely out of the question.  As Master Sergeant Logan said, if we were desperate enough to actually use you on a mission…”

 

“We’d have to be pretty desperate…” Rufus muttered under his breath

 

“…there would be no way in hell I would issue you a weapon.” Agent Christopher maintained as Flynn rolled his eyes.  “You spent the entirety of last year trying to eliminate every single one of them,” she noted as she pointed to Wyatt, Rufus and Lucy.  “I’d be a damn fool if I gave you a gun.”  She shook her head as she cast an admonishing stare towards Lucy, “I already feel like a damn fool for breaking you out of prison and bringing you here.”  Flynn made to argue again, but Agent Christopher barreled on, “The terms of arrangement were clear…you asked for protection, we asked for intel.  Intel in this case does not include sending you off to 1692…not when Lucy is perfectly capable of handling the historical facts for the team.  You will not be going.  End of story.”

 

Everyone could tell that Flynn was itching to continue arguing with her.  They could see his mouth twisting in anger and frustration as he realized that he would not be able to bully, bargain or manipulate his way onto the team.  Finally, and to everyone’s amazement, Flynn relented with a “Yes, ma’am” offering a mock salute before turning on his heel and heading back to his vacated chair. 

 

Agent Christopher turned once more back to the team and with a look of motherly concern she nodded at them seriously, “Be careful out there.”

 

Hugging Jiya close to him, Rufus murmured, “I hate leaving you here with him.”  He eyed Flynn as he sank down into his chair, disappointed, and reopened his discarded book. “Stay close to Agent Christopher while I’m gone…I don’t trust that guy.”

 

“I don’t trust him either…” Jiya admitted.  “…but maybe Lucy’s right…he’s on our side now…maybe he can help us?”

 

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Rufus said simply as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.  He climbed the metal staircase, turned once more and gave Jiya a half-hearted wave.    

 

Wyatt nodded towards Lucy, “You ready?”  At Lucy’s silent assent, he ushered her into the time machine and gave Agent Christopher and Mason a terse nod as he shot one last, long glare towards Garcia Flynn before entering the time machine, himself.

 

“You know…you shouldn’t be so hard on Flynn.  He _has_ helped us…” Lucy muttered as Wyatt tightened her safety harness. 

 

“Lucy, a couple of leads does not make up for all the shit he put us through for over a year.  The man tried to kill us…” Wyatt argued. 

 

“…had me shot…” Rufus listed.  “…left us for dead in 1754…”

 

“I know.” Lucy spat out irritably, “…but is it _so_ bad that I want to trust him to help us? That I think he actually does want to help us get rid of Rittenhouse once and for all?”

 

“No.” Wyatt said simply. “It’s not wrong to think the best of people…” he gave her a meaningful look, “but what if Flynn betrays us? What happens if we let him in the bunker and he…and he double-crosses us?”

 

Lucy furrowed her brow, “Double-crosses us?  To who? Flynn hates Rittenhouse.  He’d be the last person to be in league with them.”

 

Wyatt scoffed as he adjusted his own harness, “Desperate people do desperate things…and we all know just how desperate Garcia Flynn is and what he’s capable of.”  Rufus nodded in enthusiastic agreement, “That man would make a deal with the Devil himself, if it benefitted him in any way.” 

 

Lucy shook her head at the both of them, “Okay…so he tried to kill us…” Lucy conceded off-handedly causing Rufus and Wyatt to gape at her in disbelief.  Very much aware that they neither man shared her views, she pressed on determinedly “But, I choose to give him the benefit of the doubt.  I just wish you would too instead of…” she trailed off, her face flushing suddenly. 

 

“Instead of what?” Wyatt prompted as Rufus turned in his chair. 

 

Lucy cast her eyes down to her lap, not able to look Wyatt in the eye as she muttered, “instead of focusing on hypotheticals.”

 

Chancing a quick glance at Wyatt, she saw that he was staring at her with a look of complete vindication.  She knew he was thinking about their earlier conversation about Jessica and felt more than just a pang of guilt as she realized that she had been more willing to give Garcia Flynn the benefit of the doubt than Wyatt.  All her talk about hypotheticals and worrying about things that may or may not happen…and here she was admonishing Wyatt for doing the same thing in regards to Flynn. 

 

“Yeah…you’re right, Lucy,” Wyatt said with a voice full of meaning, “we shouldn’t focus on the hypothetical…we should focus on the here and now.”

 

Lucy gave him a small nod, noting with a sigh that Wyatt looked more irritated than relieved by the outcome of their conversation…as if he were upset that she had gone out of her way to stick her neck out for Flynn while automatically assuming the worst of him…the man with whom she had just spent an incredible night. 

 

She couldn’t blame him. 

 

“Yeah, well you two can give Flynn the benefit of the doubt all you want…” Rufus argued, completely oblivious to Wyatt’s intended meaning, “to me, he’s still a murderer.” He further declared as he punched in the final coordinates.  “Is it crazy that I’d rather be heading to the Salem Witch Trials than eating Spaghetti O’s with Flynn?”

 

Lucy rolled her eyes at Rufus as Wyatt smirked…clearly agreeing with Rufus’s assessment of the situation. 

 

As the LifeBoat hatch opened to the foggy, early morning of 17thcentury New England, Lucy couldn’t help but shudder at the eerie scene spread before them.  They had never yet traveled  this far back in time…and really, it shouldn’t have made a difference.  Forests are forests.  But the knowing that they were about to be witnesses to one of the darkest episodes in Colonial History sent a chill down Lucy’s spine as she slipped out from the safety of the time machine and onto the leaf strewn ground below.

 

“We need to find clothes as soon as possible.”  Lucy whispered as she drew her arms around her to ward off the cold that now seemed to settle in her bones.  “A woman in pants in Puritan New England isn’t exactly a welcome or usual sight.”

 

“Kinda like being a black man in just about any point in history…” Rufus quipped with a shrug. 

 

Spying a column of smoke through the trees, Wyatt silently waved them onward, hoping that because of the earliness of the hour, they could procure some era appropriate attire relatively undetected.  After walking for what felt like a good half hour, keeping mostly to the trees, the found themselves outside a large farm.  The house was dark and large, with tiny windows that gave it a very unfriendly feel.  That, coupled with the swirling fog, made it look like the last place on Earth any of them would want to be.   As they were in need of clothes, however, they had no choice but to venture forth in the hopes that they could secure a few items that would help them blend in to Puritan society.  

 

Sneaking around the plain barn, they spied exactly what they were looking for, a clothesline laden with all sorts of items, dresses, shirts and breeches.  “Jackpot.” Wyatt whispered.  “Come on, let’s go.”

 

“Um…I think I’m gonna pass on the Puritan Chain Saw Massacre, thanks.” Rufus said nervously as he backed away into the woods. 

 

“Will you relax, Rufus?” Wyatt harshly reprimanded as he patted his gun holster.  “I’ve got us covered.”

 

After grabbing a few items, Lucy Rufus, and Wyatt slipped into the barn, each staking out a corner in which to change.  Lucy had just buttoned up the front of her long, plain, burgundy dress when Wyatt’s voice called softly to her, “Do you need any help?”

 

“I…I just need to pin up my hair.” Lucy called out as loudly as she dared.  She felt awful for all that had transpired between them.  He had gone out of his way to make it clear to her that he wanted to move on with her, had turned his bedroom into their bedroom and she had to go and rain on his parade…their parade.  To make matters worse, she had to go and defend Flynn against Wyatt’s list of hypotheticals.  How on Earth could Wyatt ever get over such a slap in the face? 

 

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize that Wyatt was standing before her, looking very Puritan in his breeches and long dark coat, studded with buttons.  She startled at the sight of him, grateful that she hadn’t let out a scream.  He raised his eyebrows in amusement as she recomposed herself and went back to brushing back her hair.  “You look a little bit like a pirate.” she observed.

 

“You look…pretty.” he said with a soft smile. 

 

Lucy flushed slightly but rolled her eyes as she pulled her hair into a low bun and began sticking pins in it, hoping that she could pass scrutiny from any critical eye they might encounter.  She paused as Wyatt tucked a loose tendril back into place and then softly grazed her cheek with his fingers.  “I’m sorry” she whispered as she looked at him with a pleading, serious expression, “…about earlier…Wyatt, I shouldn’t have…”

 

“There’s no need to be sorry, Lucy.” Wyatt interrupted in a hushed voice, “I know you’re worried…but there’s no reason to be.  Okay?”   

 

She nodded as he gave her a reassuring smile.  “Okay.” Lucy responded, “I promise, I’ll…”

 

Wyatt stiffened momentarily at Lucy’s frozen expression. Quickly turning to see what had distracted her to the point of bewilderment, Wyatt cautiously glanced over his shoulder and the sight which met his eyes was enough to make him double over in laughter. “Nice hat, Rufus.  Where the hell did you dig that up?”

 

“On a hook over there.” Rufus motioned as he pointed to the corner he just vacated.  “Keep laughing…I found one for you too.” Rufus muttered as he shoved a hat towards Wyatt.

 

“I am not wearing that thing.” Wyatt maintained as he looked around the barn for another piece of headgear that would make them less conspicuous.  Finding a tall hat with a wide, round brim, he placed it on his head in satisfaction, “There.”

 

“Now you look like a proper Pilgrim.” Lucy said with a wide grin. 

 

Rufus stared at Wyatt, “They had no fashion sense in the…what century are we in again?” he asked. 

 

“17th” Lucy answered as she gave Wyatt, who was still grinning broadly at Rufus’ outfit, an admonishing smirk, “Come on, let’s go.  Salem is still a few miles down the road.  We should probably get a move on if we want to find out why Rittenhouse is here.”

 

Even as the sun rose, the heavy fog of the pre-dawn hours refused to lift…something that Rufus frequently noted as “upping the creep vibe” of this mission.  True, walking along a forest trail on a gray, foggy day amidst a backdrop of witches and folklore, in a time where just being different could land you in a jail cell or cast out of the colony, was more than a little unnerving. 

 

It was clear that they were approaching a town.  The trees grew sparser and the road seemed a little more travel worn as they traversed it’s many winds and bends.  As they climbed up a small hill, Lucy nodded towards an ominous looking tree.  “There it is…that’s Proctor’s Ledge.” She paused as she noted breathlessly, “In a few hours, innocent people will be hanged in that very spot.” 

 

It was a dismal sight. The tree, large and looming, rose up before them like a threatening Goliath.  Its large branches, witnesses to untold horrors, twisted menacingly over the path, darkening the scene figuratively and literally.  There was no need to ask which branch would hold the victims as they swung…beneath one particularly thick limb stood a jutting rock. How easy it would be to push the victim from off its ledge, allowing the rope around their neck to perform its evil duty.

 

“Poor women…” Rufus muttered as he and Wyatt exchanged dark looks. 

 

“Oh, it wasn’t just women.” Lucy corrected, “they hung men, too…the ones who spoke up.  It’s all just…awful.”      

 

“So, what are we thinking?” Wyatt asked as he took in the sight of the tree before them, “the sleeper is going to make this worse?”  He let out a derisive laugh, “I mean, how the hell do you make this worse?” 

 

Lucy shrugged as movement among the trees caught their attention.  Wyatt immediately placed a gentle hand on Lucy’s arm and directed her safely behind him as he tucked a hand inside his coat, ready to defend them in an instant should it be necessary.  “Who goes there?” he called out in warning. 

 

A hooded figure emerged, clearly a woman.  She seemed neither distressed nor surprised at finding travelers along the road, even at this hour.  “Abby here.” she responded obediently, “who asks?”

 

Wyatt turned quickly to Lucy, looking to her for her leadership.  He had no idea what to say to these people and under the circumstances, he was well aware that one false step could be disastrous.  Lucy, taking the hint, stepped forward offering a hand in friendship as she replied, “My name is Lucy…my” she lifted her eyes briefly to Wyatt before continuing rapidly, “husband and I are up from Boston.”

 

Rufus nudged Wyatt meaningfully in the arm, offering him a goofy grin as Wyatt batted him away and stood closer to Lucy.

 

“I am up from Boston, myself.” Abby said with a nod.  “My husband has business there.”  Considering them, she added, “You’re to be entertained by this afternoon’s hangings, I imagine?” Abby asked as she pulled her cloak closer. 

 

Lucy exchanged a quick glance with Wyatt and Rufus, unsure of what she should say lest she inadvertently land them all in a colonial prison for coming to the defense of the accused. However, her sense of injustice would not allow her to make light of something she had forever seen as a stain on history.  Taking a steadying breath, she noted, “I’d hardly call the hanging of men and women entertaining.”  Abby gave her an appraising look as Lucy continued, “That is why we’ve come…we’ve heard such reports in Boston as to concern us greatly.  We’d like to help…if we can.”

 

Wyatt and Rufus nodded in acknowledgement as Abby responded with a dry chuckle, “I’m afraid now the fate of these poor souls is left to God.  Rumor is, the Governor is not inclined to order the sentences be invalidated…though there is little proof to substantiate the claims made against them.” She scoffed, “A few theatrics and a bit of hysteria can cause much mischief among the superstitious.”    

 

“I see we share the same opinion on these trials” Lucy noted with relief.   

 

“It vexes me to hear them referred to as such.” Abby retorted with anger.  “Lies and falsehoods condemning the innocent to die is hardly justice.”

 

Impressed by the passion of the 17thcentury woman who seemed ahead of her time, Lucy noted, “You do realize how dangerous it is to speak out on a day like today?”

 

“I could not live with myself if I did not speak out against this injustice.” Abby retorted fervently. “My own sister stood before the magistrate claiming blindness was brought upon her by her neighbor, Martha Corey.”  Lucy’s eyes widened, but Abby continued, “When I heard those reports, I was troubled and then summoned to come and be of help to my sister in her time of need.  I left my own family, my husband and my own small children, to discern for myself whether these stories were true.”  She hung her head down in apparent shame, “I regret to say, I saw no truth in my sister’s claims.”  She sighed, “But I’m afraid there is little else I can do for the victims of these vicious falsehoods.  I plan to make one more supplication today at Ingersoll’s Tavern, when the Governor’s response is to be read, but I have no hopes that it will change the fate of those who stand accused.”

 

Lucy stood gaping at her in awe even after she wished them a “good day” and continued on down the lane, alone. 

 

“Brave girl.” Wyatt observed.  “Reminded me of someone else I know.” he added with a sidelong glance at Lucy.

 

“That…that was Abiah Folger Franklin.” she muttered in disbelief, still gaping after the retreating figure.

 

“Who?” Rufus asked…”What…did she like form the coffee company or something?”

 

 “No…she’s…she’s Benjamin Franklin’s mother.” Lucy answered in a voice that trembling in awe.  

 

“How the hell do you know that?” Wyatt asked.  “All she gave you was her first name.”  As soon as he uttered that statement, however, he realized it was a stupid thing to say.  This was Lucy after all, and he knew more than anyone that she could pick out historical figures with her eyes closed if the situation required it. 

 

“She gave us more than that.” Lucy said as she lifted her skirts and began walking once more. “That story about her sister and Martha Corey?  The woman who accused Martha Corey was Bathsheba Folger Pope…Abiah’s sister. Her testimony during the Salem witch trials is the legendary…not only did she claim blindness, she also went into a fit of hysteria and threw her shoe at the accused heads.”

 

“Who throws a shoe?” Rufus muttered to Wyatt in hopes that he would catch his Austin Power’s reference, but Wyatt was smirking at Lucy and hadn’t heard him. 

 

“Well…Lucy, I think you just stole back the thunder Flynn took from you earlier.” Wyatt observed fondly as he brushed his arm against hers.  “He may claim to know all about Salem, but he’s got nothing on you.  I doubt he would have recognized Abby for who she really was.” Lucy flushed slightly at the compliment and threaded her arm through his, feeling so much more at ease than she had been.  “So…” Wyatt continued, teasing her, “husband, huh?”

 

“Would you rather have been my brother?” Lucy asked with a quirked brow. 

 

“Hell no.” Wyatt responded promptly as he kissed her hand, taking care to tuck her closer to him as they made their way into the town.    

 

Satisfied with his answer, Lucy gave him another smirk as they walked on.  It was only five miles to Salem, but with the footwear they were forced to wear in these colonial garbs, they felt each painful step and by the time they finally arrived at the tavern they were oh so grateful to finally have someplace where they could rest and take the pressure off their abused feet. 

 

Though the establishment was packed full of curious onlookers, Lucy, Wyatt and Rufus were able to claim a seat at a table near the window where they could watch the proceedings. No sooner had they slipped onto the roughly hewn bench, then a tall, stately man stood at the head of the large room and addressed the noisy crowd.  “Silence!” he cried.  “Silence in the tavern!”  As the room grew eerily quiet, he nodded towards a burly looking man in the corner, “you may bring in the prisoners.”

 

Lucy gasped as it dawned on her who this man could be, “I think that’s John Hathorne, he was one of the leading judges during the Salem Witch Trials…also, he was the great -great grandfather of Nathaniel Hawthorne…you know, the novelist?”

 

Wyatt and Rufus stared back at her blankly. 

 

“Oh come on…” she whispered harshly, “ _The House of the Seven Gables_?  _The Scarlet Letter_?” 

 

“Wasn’t that a Demi Moore movie?” Rufus asked as Lucy rolled her eyes in frustration. 

 

 “It wasn’t just a…you know what? Nevermind.” Lucy spat out in agitation. 

 

“Okay…” Rufus said doubtfully, “but correct me if I’m wrong, here Lucy.  You said this guy’s name is _Hathorne…_ and the novelist is Hawthorne…you sure that writer didn’t claim relation to sell a few more books?

 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Lucy explained in a hushed voice, her eyes still focused on the tall man at the front of the room, “He added the “w” to his name to distance himself from…all of this.”

 

“Can’t say that I blame him.” Rufus quipped with a head tilt as Lucy motioned for him to turn his attention once more to the front of the room.    

 

A group eight, mostly women, were now standing just behind John Hathorne, looking terrified as he read out the response from the Governor…a response to a petition begging for their immediate release.  With a sneer, the magistrate informed the now rapt audience in the tavern that there would be no such release, that the Governor had given his blessing that all nine accused were to be executed. 

 

With a look of confusion, Lucy silently began counting the condemned, trying to recall the history and why the number of victims she had been so sure of, was different.  Thinking that perhaps one of the accused might have later confessed in order to avoid the gallows and that such a confession was lost to the annals of history, she was just about to turn and make mention of her problem to Wyatt and Rufus when the answer to the mystery was suddenly made clear.  From the corner of the room, another woman, a woman she immediately recognized as the one they met on the road, was being roughly brought forward to stand before crowd. 

 

“Abiah Folger Franklin” John Hathorne said in a voice steeped with loathing.  “You stand accused of practicing witchcraft and making covenants with the Devil…will you confess?”

 

Lucy gasped out and reached for Wyatt’s arm.  Judging by Lucy’s reaction, Wyatt knew that whatever was happening wasn’t supposed to happen, he bent towards her to ask what he needed to do, but Lucy waved her free hand at him, indicating for him to stop talking so that she could hear over the spirited crowd. 

 

Looking around the room in disgust, Abiah Folger Franklin, threw her head back haughtily and declared herself “Not guilty” followed by numerous yells and jeers from the crowd.  Far from intimidating her, Abiah Franklin scolded the crowd for the gross injustice of the trials and for allowing silly superstitions to cloud their better judgement.   

 

Having heard enough of her protestations, John Hathorne ordered her to be apprehended and taken to the jail house with the rest of the accused as they awaited their sentences to be carried out.  Panicking now, Lucy gripped Wyatt’s arm harder and turned to him with pleading eyes, “No…she cannot die.  She cannot die.”

 

“You mean, she wasn’t part of this before?” Wyatt asked with alarm, already sensing her answer. 

 

“No!” Lucy cried out. “I don’t even think she was present for the trials…I should have realized that this morning when I saw her…but…”.  Tears were pooling in Lucy’s eyes as she watched the nine accused being led from the tavern.  “If she dies, Benjamin Franklin will never be born…do you have any idea how bad that will be?”

 

“I thought she said she had a kid?” Rufus quipped. 

 

“She does…two actually.” Lucy noted, “But Benjamin Franklin isn’t born until 1706.  If she dies today…”

 

“That doesn’t happen.” Wyatt said tersely as he bit his lip in thought.  “She said she was summoned here…do you think it was the sleeper who told her to come?” 

 

Lucy shrugged, “I imagine so…they probably are also the ones responsible for accusing her of witchcraft.”

 

“It couldn’t have been her sister, could it?”  Wyatt suggested.  “I mean, she did say that she knew her sister was lying…”

 

“I doubt she would accuse her own sister of witchcraft, though...” Lucy countered, “…the shame that would bring on the family, alone would be enough to make me doubt it had come from Bathsheba.”  Lucy shook her head despondently, “No…someone else had to have accused her…but who?"

 

As if searching for the answer to that question, Lucy’s eyes darted around the tavern.  She inwardly admonished herself, knowing with a pang, that even if the sleeper were in the room, there would be no way she would recognize them.  Imbedded in the past, as they were, with years of living among these people under their belt? No.  They would be indiscernible…they would look just like everyone else. 

 

Wyatt’s eyes followed the last of the accused as they disappeared beyond the door.  The tavern was a bit quieter now, still filled with men and women who were talking excitedly over their tankards of drink and heaping bowls of stew.  Seeing no immediate danger, no one who was particularly paying them any mind, Wyatt offered, “Look, I’m gonna go follow those Puritan assholes to find out where they’re being held.  Maybe I can figure out a way to break them out.”  He looked at Rufus, “You stay here with Lucy, it’ll be less suspicious if just one of us is snooping around the jail cell.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Lucy breathed out as she grabbed his arm, “what if you get caught?” 

 

Wyatt picked up a Bible from the table, “I’ll tell them I’m a traveling a missionary…offering up my services to try to save the souls of the damned.” he said with a wink.  “Don’t worry about me…you two stay here and try not to draw attention to yourselves.”

 

“Here.” Lucy cried out desperately as she pulled a pin from her hair.  “Just in case.”

 

Wyatt smirked, “What…no underwire bra this time?” 

 

With Lucy’s reproving glare, he shrugged and offered her a small smile as he made his way towards the side door where the last of the victims had just been led out.  He was just about to step outside into the crisp New England afternoon when a commotion behind him made him turn. 

 

“There she is! There’s Lucy!” came a loud voice. Hearing Lucy’s name being uttered by some stranger in 1692 caused Wyatt’s heart to drop into his stomach. From the other corner of the tavern, an older woman had appeared in the doorway and was pointing an accusing finger at Lucy.

 

 _His_ Lucy. 

 

For one brief moment, he was confused as to who would know Lucy in this century, thinking that whatever was going on was some terrible mistake.  Almost as soon as that thought came, however, he realized that this was probably the sleeper they were looking for…except that as he looked at Lucy, he noted that she wasn’t looking back at this person with confusion…no, recognition was written all over Lucy’s face and she looked absolutely stunned as if she had just been betrayed in the worst possible way.  With that thought in mind, he turned his attention back to the opposite door, realizing with a jolt of anger that he knew who the woman was too. 

 

He had only seen her once before. 

          

In 1918. 

 

As Emma held Lucy at gunpoint, this woman looked on, admonishing Lucy for conspiring against them, telling her that she would no longer be able to protect her if she continued to thwart their plans.  Wyatt had responded to that heartbreaking statement by proudly informing her and Emma that he would be there to protect Lucy…and he sure as hell meant it.  Now, as he stood there in the tavern staring at Lucy’s mother calling out her daughter in the middle of a 17thcentury tavern, Wyatt was more than ready to make good on that promise.    

 

One look from Lucy, however….one brief, but meaningful look, kept him from barreling through the crowd and rushing to her side as she slowly lifted her hands in surrender.   

 

By now the tavern was abuzz with commotion and even though Lucy had silently communicated to Wyatt that he stay put, he couldn’t help but elbow his way through some of the crowd in order to keep his eye on her.  He was kicking himself for leaving her and absolutely terrified that she and Rufus were essentially cornered.  Fighting the urge to call out to her, knowing that by doing so, he would put them in a bigger mess than they were already in, Wyatt watched with horror as armed men surrounded his team.  What the hell Carol Preston had in store for her daughter, Wyatt could only imagine…but never could he have believed that the woman whom Lucy had idolized her entire life, would turn a haughty sneer to John Hathorne and declare her only daughter a witch. 

 

As her accusation rang out above the din of the tavern, Wyatt yelled out an involuntary “No!” but thankfully, his protestation was lost among the shouts and murmurs of the excited crowd.   

 

Desperate now to get Lucy the hell out of there, Wyatt fought his way through the crowd only to see Lucy cast him another sideways glance and shake her head slightly.  She looked hurt, terrified, but absolutely determined that Wyatt stay where he was…and Wyatt knew, regrettably, that she was right.  He would be of no help to them if he got himself captured too.  He had his gun, after all…and while these muskets were no match for his 9mm, there was no way in hell he would be able to clear out the whole room without putting Lucy and Rufus at risk.   

 

He tucked his hat down over his eyes and blended into the crowd as best as he could as Lucy and Rufus were led away.  He saw with a certain amount of dread that Carol was scanning the crowd, possibly in search of him…of course she would know that he would never have allowed Lucy to venture here without his protection and as he was not currently being shackled next to Rufus, no doubt she knew he was somewhere hiding in the wings.   

 

Wyatt watched helplessly as Lucy and Rufus were led away from the tavern in chains, no doubt to be hung with everyone else later that day.    

 

Not daring to draw any unnecessary attention to himself, he stepped outside and stood against the tavern wall, petting a horse as he watched them be led to a small clapboarded building at the far end of the road.  Lucy looked back over her shoulder towards the tavern…he wasn’t sure if she had spotted him or not, but now more than ever he knew he was going to have to find a way to get into that jail.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so you'll notice a few changes to what is seen in the show. I did that because I kinda hate that episode for more reasons than just Jessica. 
> 
> Abby Franklin had a baby IN 1692 so already the likelihood of her being in Salem at this time are slim. Also for her to be out and about stabbing notices to trees as a married woman with children...also very slim. So it DRIVES ME NUTS. So in writing this, I tried to fix that narrative by making the story a bit more plausible with what is in the historic account. I know....I self-identify as a nerd...you guys can call me that all you want....I KNOW I AM. 
> 
> I cut out the scene with Bathsheba because there's really no point to it for this story. In the show, they go there, Flynn beats up her husband, figures he probably has a gun and then later goes and steals his musket. Since Wyatt is there and has a gun, he doesn't need to go stealing one. (Though I admit, Flynn looking for weapons in Puritan New England is my favorite part of that episode). So anyway, I cut that so the story/narrative would flow better. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update, I'm doing my best to weave canon with new timeline ideas. Please, if you are so inclined, leave a review. I always enjoy hearing from readers...especially on a daunting project like this. .


	3. The Hanging Tree

“Good thing Wyatt is here to help us out of this.” Rufus whispered to Lucy as they were apprehended. 

 

Careful not to look at him, and give his position away, Lucy ducked her head down as they passed him…muttering to Rufus under her breath to do the same.  It would do no good for all three of them to wind up at the gallows. She knew Wyatt was upset, she had seen him fighting to get to her, but that was what terrified her the most. The men who were accused, had been so because they had come to the defense of their wives…even if her mother hadn’t seen Wyatt, any resistance on his part for her sake, would be seen as corroboration and there were worse things they could do to him than just hanging. How many other men, in the history of these trials had suffered slow, torturous deaths because they had been angry over the accusation of the ones they loved?

 

Not that she was sure Wyatt loved her…but she didn’t want to think about what could happen to him if he made a scene…and knowing Wyatt, as she did, she wasn’t too sure what he might do in this situation.   

 

As if trying to assure herself of the fact that he was still safe, she turned her head to look back towards the tavern as they reached the jailhouse door.  Her eyes searched among the crowd that had gathered in the street, but she saw no sign of him.  Disappointed and more than a little apprehensive, she allowed herself to be roughly shoved forward and led down a set of roughly hewn stairs, sensing, rather than seeing, Rufus following directly behind her.   

 

The dank and musty smell of hay, urine, and soil assaulted their nostrils as the door swung open to a dark, low ceilinged prison underneath the home of the town constable.  There were two holding cells on opposing sides of the room, each filled with mountains of straw on which the incarcerated could sit or lay in relative comfort as the packed dirt floor was not only terribly cold, but hard as stone.  The dying rays of sunlight shone through the grated windows that lined the upper portion of the walls, but did nothing to cheer the inhabitants therein.

 

Lucy was led to the most crowded of these cells, joining her fellow disgraced sisters.  A look of sad recognition appeared on Abiah Franklin’s face as Lucy made her way through the barred door, held open by one particularly unattractive and scruffy Puritan.  Rufus, by contrast, was dealt a more humiliating blow.  Not even granted a cell to contemplate his situation in, instead, he was chained by the neck to the other doomed men and forced to sit on a mercilessly hard straight-backed bench in the middle of the room.

 

Sinking down to the floor next to the cell door, Lucy bit back the barrage of tears that were battling their way to the surface.  It had been one thing to discover her mother was Rittenhouse, one thing for her mother to stand idly by while Lucy was bullied into shooting an innocent man, one thing to see her mother actually considering the cold-blooded murder of Marie Curie and her daughter…but even as she doubted when Wyatt asked her if she was sure that her mother wouldn’t have allowed Emma to kill her, she never fully allowed herself to believe that her mother would ever choose Rittenhouse over her own daughter’s life. 

 

Now, however, she was forced to face the harsh reality that the mother she knew and loved was truly gone. Just moments before she was falsely accused of being a witch by the woman she had once idolized, she had deemed it impossible for Bathsheba Pope to be the one responsible for Abiah Franklin’s condemnation for the pure and simple fact that they were family.

 

So much for blood being thicker than water. 

 

Humiliated beyond belief for her misplaced faith in her mother, Lucy couldn’t help but ponder on the conversation she and Wyatt shared in the LifeBoat before they arrived in Salem. She knew that Wyatt thought she was dangerously naïve in regards to Flynn, and perhaps she was.  Obviously, she was no good judge of character…otherwise, she would have seen this coming, wouldn’t she? 

 

She felt utterly foolish to have been so blinded by her own mother’s deception.  Hadn’t she discovered that the man she had always believed to be her father, wasn’t?  That her mother had not just lied to her in one timeline, but two?  Why then, was she so shocked…especially after she found out who her father really was, that her mother had been Rittenhouse too?

 

It seemed so obvious now. 

 

And yet, even after knowing that her mother had continually lied, after being kidnapped for heaven’s sake, she insisted on believing that her mother was still there…somewhere…which was silly, considering that the woman Lucy knew and loved didn’t even exist. Wyatt had told her there wasn’t anything wrong with looking for the best in people, but now, she felt that there most certainly was something wrong with that. 

 

As much as it hurt to admit, she knew that looking for the best in her mother had brought her nothing but pain and disappointment.   

 

And Lucy was hurt. 

 

Deeply. 

 

The tears that she could no longer suppress came spilling out unbidden, making her feel weak among the women who were sitting stoically in the midst of all of this horror and humiliation; these other women, sitting so bravely in the face of death.  What must they think of her?   

 

Unlike them, she knew she wasn’t going to die.  Wyatt would come for her…there was not even a question in her mind about that, but these women…who would come for them?  Those who had come to their defense, had either been imprisoned with them or subjected to torture until they died…or, relented and renounced their relations and friends as witches and heretics.  How deep was their sorrow, to have an entire town of former friends and relatives turn on them because they were “different?”

 

No, Lucy had no right to feel sorry for herself when these women had been through so much more pain and mortification than she had…and yet, still managed to somehow find it in their hearts to offer her sympathetic smiles.  As if to amplify her shame, Abiah Franklin approached her kindly, pressing a hand on Lucy’s arm and with a look of compassion she softly whispered, “I’m sorry to meet you again in such circumstances.”

 

Lucy offered her a watery smile for her kindness, “It’s all just…so much more awful than I thought.” she returned in a quavering voice as she wiped away her tears, inwardly berating herself for being so weak. 

 

Abiah considered her for a moment and then offered her some words of comfort, “Those of us who have followed these proceedings closely…those of us who disagreed…we knew that being accused could be a possibility.” She gave Lucy a small smile of understanding, “It does not make the accusation less painful.”

 

“No.” Lucy whispered as fresh tears fell from her eyes.  “It doesn’t.”

 

Abiah motioned to the other women in the room as she continued, “Our own friends sat in judgement…people we knew and trusted, sat idly by while they took us away, dragging our good names through the mud.  It is one thing to die, quite another to die in disgrace.”

 

Feeling a sudden kinship with these women, women whom she had only read about, Lucy looked at them all, really for the first time, not as figures in history, but as people.  These women who were falsely accused, condemned to die merely for not fitting in.  Centuries may have separated them, but were they really _that_ different?

 

Lucy had refused to conform to her mother’s wishes, to Rittenhouse, and this was her punishment. Cast off, disgraced, humiliated…but at least she had hope.  These women had no reason to believe that they were anything but condemned, yet they were the ones offering her words of comfort and in that moment, she knew what bravery was. 

 

She was looking right at it. 

 

The other women soon shared their stories and maintained their innocence and it was all Lucy could do to keep her composure.  She was angry.  Angry that such injustice could exist.  She felt it doubly because of her mother’s betrayal, but in a way, she was glad that it happened, because it gave her a determination to fight like nothing else had. As she looked around the jail cell, she no longer felt humiliated by her mother’s accusation, she felt proud, proud to be in the company of these “outcasts and misfits” – these women who would not lie and admit to being something they weren’t to save their lives. Abby had said that they were going to die disgraced…but Lucy disagreed. 

The greater disgrace would have been to live because of a lie. 

 

They did their best to keep their spirits high, but Lucy could tell as the afternoon wore on that the closeness of the execution hour was now weighing on their minds.  Some were agitated, others despondent, but together they showed a solidarity and strength that Lucy found remarkable.    

 

The last semblances of day were just visible outside, when the jailhouse door creaked open and Lucy’s heart gave a bit of a leap.  Half wondering if their time had come, half wondering if it was Wyatt coming to their rescue, she was completely shaken when the voice of her mother whispered to her through the cell door. 

 

“Lucy?  Are you okay?” she asked in concern.

 

Astounded that her mother had the gall to visit her after sending her to die, Lucy stared back at her, stony faced and immoveable.  “How could you do this?” she asked in hoarse whisper. 

 

Huffing out a breath in frustration, Carol Preston argued, “You gave me no choice!”

 

“It was you, wasn’t it? Who accused Abby?”  Lucy asked, hurt and disappointment written all over her face. 

 

“Abby’s sacrifice will be a necessary one in order to make a better future.” Lucy let out a disbelieving laugh as her mother continued in a hushed and hurried tone, “I just needed to get you alone…away from your friends to convince you to stop this foolishness and come back home…for my sake.”

 

Glaring at her, Lucy gritted out through angry tears, “You sent Rufus to die so that I would come home with you? Do you hear yourself?” Lucy scoffed as she continued, “You sent innocent people to die just so you could have a conversation with me?”

 

Her mother gave an exasperated sigh, “It’s more than that, Lucy…you know our work is more important than…”

 

“Than what? People?  Innocent lives?”  Lucy spat back. 

 

“I’m trying to make a better world.” she snapped, before composing herself and adding more calmly, “Listen to me, there is a gentleman waiting outside this door who is ready to take your confession.”  Lucy recoiled as her mother pressed on, “It’s nothing but signing a piece of paper, and then you are free to go.”

 

“And Rufus?” Lucy asked. “What about him?”

 

“I’m not here for Rufus. I’m here for you.” she responded in obvious irritation. 

 

Appalled by her mother’s actions and insulted by her request, Lucy stared back at her angrily and whispered dangerously, “I’d rather hang.”

 

“You were always so stubborn.” Carol Preston spat out.  “Why are you doing this?”  Lucy averted her eyes, “It’s because of _him_ , isn’t it?” 

 

The allusion to Wyatt caused Lucy’s heart to sink.  Her mother knew…how she knew she had no idea…but she wouldn’t betray it…she wouldn’t even say his name.  Lucy shook her head at her mother angrily, “It’s because of you…because of Rittenhouse, what it is, what it plans to do.  You talk about our lineage like it’s something to be proud of.  I met David Rittenhouse and that is _nothing_ to be proud of.”

 

She shook her head sadly at Lucy, not paying any heed to what she had to say about their founder and ancestor, “He’ll never care for you like I do…” Carol uttered in a harsh whisper, “he’ll never care for you as much as he cared for Jessica.”

 

The mention of Wyatt’s wife caused Lucy’s eyes to dart to her mother’s, all of her insecurities rushing back full force, “How do you know about her?” she asked in breathless wonder, kicking herself the moment the question escaped her lips.  Her mother had hit a nerve, and now she knew it. She stared at her mother, horrified by the thoroughness of her manipulation.  She was using Wyatt, his dead wife, and her own doubts against her…but how did she know all of that?  As Lucy considered it, realization dawned on her face as she shook her head and muttered, “The recordings…of course.”  

 

“You know as well as I do, that he will never be able to fully move on…” she urged, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

 

Lucy laughed at her incredulously as a single tear made its way down her cheek, “He could never hurt me as much as you have.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy, “ her mother breathed out, “I’m trying to help you.”

 

“I don’t want your help.” Lucy snapped back.  Chuckling dryly, Lucy looked her mother straight in the eye and in a quavering voice whispered, “You know, I used to want nothing more than to please you…to make you proud.  Now…I’m just disappointed.”

 

Gripping Lucy’s hand angrily through the bars, she gritted out, “If you would just listen, you would spare yourself so much pain.”  Her expression softened slightly as she pressed a small knife into Lucy’s palm and in a voice of desperation she whispered, “Use this, get yourself out of here and come home.”  At Lucy’s scoff, Carol continued on in warning, “This is your last chance, Lucy. I am the only one who can save you…listen to me, before it’s too late.”

 

Jerking her hand away, Lucy stared after her mother as she turned to leave, pausing only to inform Lucy that she would be awaiting her at the Mothership.  Tucking the knife in the sleeve of her dress, Lucy sank back down on the hard, cold floor as a heat of indignation rose within her chest.  Her mother had done all of this, just so Lucy would…what?  See how wrong she was for turning her back on her mother and Rittenhouse?  She wasn’t a child anymore.  Her mother may have been able to sway her decisions easily in the past, but now that she knew who her mother really was…she would no longer be fooled by her manipulations, no matter how awful they were. 

 

And this?  This was pretty awful. 

 

By accusing Lucy of witchcraft, sending her to this colonial hellhole of a prison, she was essentially giving Lucy a choice.  Rittenhouse or death.  Lucy’s eyes wandered past the bars of her cell and landed on Rufus’ hunched over form. By capturing their pilot, sending him to hang, Carol Preston had ensured that Lucy would have no other means out of this century except by the Mothership…so yes, Carol Preston had Lucy over a barrel.

 

At least she thought she did. 

 

As far as Lucy knew, Wyatt was still out there.  He would come for her and Rufus.  Yet even as she told herself that, an unwelcome fear stabbed at her heart.  She thought, by now, he would have come…that he would have found some way to get them out, yet here it was almost evening, hours after they had been taken, and he was still unnervingly absent.  Where could he be?  Desperately trying to quell her fears, she reasoned there could be any number of things keeping Wyatt from breaking them out of their prison.  They were in a basement, for one, that was heavily guarded.   Armed or not, Wyatt was one man against an entire town on a day where everyone’s attention was on the jailhouse.  Still, she thought that perhaps he might at least get a message to her.    

 

 _I am the only one who can save you_.

 

Her mother’s parting words seemed to mock her in her mounting distress. 

 

No. 

 

Wyatt was fine.  This was just part of her mother’s manipulation…to make her doubt that he would come.  He had saved her in 1918…had essentially come back from the dead to bring her home, he would do the same here.  Yet, as the light grew dimmer and the dreaded sound of heavy footsteps and a horse cart sounded outside, Lucy rested her head in her shaking hands and wondered what on Earth had become of Wyatt.   

 

 

                                                                        ****

 

Once Lucy and Rufus disappeared into the jail cell, Wyatt kept a keen eye out for Carol Preston and anyone who might be working for her.  Her appearance in the tavern, while completely unexpected, was not wholly unusual, now that he had time to think it over.  It was Carol, after all, who had kidnapped Lucy in the first place, three months ago.  It was Carol who had conditioned Lucy since birth for…whatever the hell they wanted her to do for Rittenhouse.  And it was Carol who stood to lose the most, by letting Lucy, her one and only heir, slip through her fingers. 

 

He wasn’t sure how accusing Lucy of witchcraft fit in with her plans, but Wyatt wasn’t going to take anything at face value.  Carol Preston was up to something and Wyatt wanted to know what it was.  

 

One thing was obvious, Carol Preston was searching for him.  Moments after they took Lucy and Rufus away, he watched her through the window of the tavern desperately seeking out face after face of every man and woman she encountered.  He saw with grim satisfaction, the tense lines on her face deepen as time after time she came up disappointed.  He had _suspected_ that after 1918, Carol Preston considered him a threat to her influence over Lucy, but after observing her flitting about Salem, looking more and more uneasy as time passed, he _knew_ she considered him one. 

 

And it didn’t bother him one damn bit. 

 

From where he stood, Carol Preston had hurt Lucy more than even Garcia Flynn had. Both had kidnapped her, both had put her into life threatening situations for their own purposes, but Flynn had always been an asshole.  Carol, by contrast, had been the woman Lucy never quite thought she could measure up to, the woman Lucy idolized and loved.  Wyatt’s mind flitted back to the first moment they met when Lucy, brilliant Lucy, had declared herself “just a teacher” while claiming that it was actually her mother who was “world class.” 

 

Her mother was “world class” alright…

 

For Lucy to discover that she had essentially been groomed her entire life to take her place among these elitist dicks had to have been the shock of a lifetime, and he hadn’t even been there to help her through it. 

 

How could he, when Rittenhouse had tried to blow him and all of Mason to hell?

 

Carol Preston had sidelined them so she could kidnap Lucy in order to bend and break her to Rittenhouse’s will.  A wave of fury washed over Wyatt as he recalled what Lucy had told him in the munitions tent 1918; she had believed them dead, had lost all hope, and therefore, had no plans to return to the present…in fact, the grenade she held in her trembling hand was to be the end of her and, she had hoped, the end of Rittenhouse.

 

Carol Preston had driven Lucy to the ultimate desperation and Wyatt would never…could never forgive her for that.   

 

Now, watching her make her way through the town, asking questions, looking desperate, he couldn’t help but smirk.  Whatever her plans, it was clear that without Wyatt under lock and key somewhere, she was nervous.  As much as Wyatt desperately wanted to get Lucy the hell out of prison, he knew that at least while there, she and Rufus were safe.  The crowds in Salem were thick and full of curious visitors who had come to witness the mass hanging, Wyatt, therefore was able to blend in as just another onlooker in the small New England town.  Still, even with the added bonus of more people, someone was looking for him…and he was absolutely certain she wasn’t alone. 

 

To think that Carol Preston would travel to 1692 without some sort of protection was laughable and as Emma was Rittenhouse’s only pilot (as far as they knew, anyway) he was sure certain the red-headed menace was here…but as she had not yet shown her face, it made him nervous.  Emma, however, was not the only possible hidden threat.  He was absolutely sure that there were Rittenhouse agents among the crowd, watching for him, just as Carol was, and so his best plan was to keep himself off their radar for as long as possible until he could somehow get to Lucy.    

 

That, unfortunately, meant that he was not going to be able to go anywhere near the jail house.

 

Instead, Wyatt kept his distance, watching and waiting.  At some point, he knew, the accused would be led out of their cells and marched out of town to be hung.  Though he didn’t like the idea of a last-minute rescue any more than he liked the idea of Lucy and Rufus sitting in a damn pre-American prison, he really didn’t have much of a choice.  As the evening sun began to dip in the sky, however, he reconsidered that plan as he saw, with mounting dread, Carol Preston march her way down the street, offer something to the prison guard, and descend down the stairs unbarred. 

 

What the hell was she doing?

 

Wyatt didn’t care so much about being hidden anymore.  He had no idea what the layout of that prison was.  If Carol Preston had bought Lucy’s freedom and took off with her again, he would never forgive himself.  Throwing caution to the wind, he slipped out from his hiding place in a barn near the tavern, and made his way carefully down the street towards the jailhouse. The main street wasn’t as crowded as it had been earlier, but he knew that would change once it got nearer the time for the executions.  He had planned to be blend in among the townspeople and slip off with both Lucy and Rufus while the rest of Salem’s Lot were focused on the hangings.  With this new development, however, Wyatt was anxious. He didn’t trust Carol.  It was one thing to send your daughter to the gallows, quite another to watch…and he while he believed she was pretty damn depraved he didn’t think she was _that_ depraved.

 

 So why the hell was she  _still_ here? 

 

He thought through every possible scenario, every imaginable explanation and the only thing that made any kind of twisted sense was that the accusation and imprisonment was a ruse. She had planned to entrap all three of them…that much was clear from the way she was buzzing about the town.  If he and Rufus were not in a position to help her, Lucy would have no choice but to die or go home with her mother.

 

Wyatt imagined that she was desperate now, having not found him and knowing that Lucy would know that with Wyatt free,  she still had some kind of hope.  He didn’t want to think about what the hell Carol Preston might say to her in order to convince her to come back with her, but given that he knew Lucy was already having doubts about his feelings for her, he panicked.

 

He hoped that if Rittenhouse was still out among the few scattered people remaining on the street, he would go unnoticed by them…just another Puritan in town for the hanging. As he neared the jailhouse, he breathed out a sigh of relief…happy that he had escaped notice. 

 

Or so he thought. 

 

No sooner had he reached the furthest corner of the prison than he felt the smooth barrel of a gun being pointed at his ribs while an arm wrapped itself around his.  “Been looking for you, Master Sergeant.” Emma’s voice came sing songing in his ear.”

 

“Shit.” Wyatt cursed as he attempted to pull away from her and reach his own gun.

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Emma warned silkily.  “I’d hate for you to miss Lucy’s hanging.”

 

Wyatt’s father had been a world class sonofabitch.  A drunk with a temper, he had seen his father beat the shit out of countless people…men, women…hell, he had even taken out his frustration on Wyatt when he was just a boy.  Growing up with that, Wyatt had vowed to never be like his old man…instead, he looked to his Grandpa Sherwin as a role model for what he should be and how he should live his life.  His Grandpa had been a loving husband, father, and military hero.  He taught Wyatt the importance of loyalty, trust and responsibility.  He had also told Wyatt that there was nothing worse than a man who would use a woman as a punching bag.  In the case of Emma Whitmore, however, Wyatt thought that maybe his Grandpa would make an exception. 

 

She wasn’t your everyday, average woman.

 

Deadly as she was fierce, Emma Whitmore was not only Rittenhouse’s one and only pilot, she was their most lethal assassin.  Trained in hand to hand combat, marksmanship, and Lord knows what else, Emma had taken out an entire team of Federal agents and stolen the Mothership single-handedly. 

Wyatt would have never believed it possible if he hadn’t seen the footage.  She had been Rufus’ friend and co-worker at Mason; both of them having gone through the Pilot training program together.  Then one day, a mission “went wrong” and Emma hadn’t come back.  Little did they know she was actually a sleeper for Rittenhouse, one of the first ones they had planted in the past.  For someone who had spent 10 years of her life, living in solitude in 19thcentury Missouri, was it any wonder that she hated the fact that Lucy held more clout for being born into Rittenhouse, than she did?

 

Eaten up with jealousy, she had terrorized Lucy in those six weeks that she spent as a prisoner. Carol Preston may have been the one who wanted Lucy to prove her loyalty, but according to Lucy, it was Emma who had driven her to actually pull the trigger and kill that soldier in 1918. After failing to kill Lucy in Darlington in 1955, Emma now looked absolutely giddy that Lucy would soon be executed in 1692. 

 

And it made Wyatt sick. 

 

Of course, if he had anything to do with it, Lucy would be just fine…but his plans had sort of taken a nosedive now that Emma had a gun pointed in his ribs. 

 

“What’s wrong soldier?” Emma said with a pout.  “Afraid you’re going to lose another woman in your life to strangulation?” 

 

Wyatt seethed, but didn’t respond.  He knew she was just trying to get a rise out of him, make him act out emotionally, and not only did he not want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten under his skin, exposed a nerve, he knew that if he wanted to help Lucy, that he needed to keep a cool head.  “What’s in this for you, anyway Emma?” Wyatt retorted.  “It’s not like if Lucy dies you’d ever be able to take her place with those elitist assholes…you’re just a grunt…a hired thug.”

 

Emma bit her lip and smiled, realizing that Wyatt wasn’t going to be so easily rattled.  She nudged the gun harder into his ribs in retaliation and commanded, “Hand it, over tough guy.”

 

With a resigned sigh, Wyatt reluctantly reached into his coat and slowly pulled out his gun wishing he could wipe the smug look off of Emma’s face.  She was just relishing in the fact that soon he would no longer be a thorn in their side, when Carol emerged from the prison looking agitated and angry.  She was soon joined by two Rittenhouse thugs, who pointed her towards a waiting Emma. “Say your goodbyes?  I hope you gave her my best.” Emma quipped as Carol Preston’s eyes darted to her in shock and surprise.

 

“Why aren’t you with the Mothership?” she asked roughly.  “I told you this was my mission.”

 

Emma shrugged, “I got tired of waiting…besides, it looks like you forgot someone.”  She muttered as she pressed a rough hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. 

 

Carol looked at Wyatt with a mixture of relief and frustration, “Not at all…tell me,” she motioned to one her hired hands, “how soon before I entered the jail house did our Mr. Logan appear?”

 

“Almost immediately, ma’am…you were right, that did draw him out.” 

 

 _Dammit_.  Wyatt thought with an inward grimace. He should have known, it had been a damn trap. 

 

“So, predictable.” Carol quipped as she offered him a haughty smile.  Wyatt noted that while Carol Preston shared a lot of things with Lucy, she had none of her humility.  Carol turned a satisfied smirk towards Emma, “As I said, we had everything handled.”

 

Emma, ever proud and scornful, sneered back, “And Lucy?”

 

“Lucy…” Carol sighed, “is thinking over her legacy.”  She raised her eyebrows as Wyatt rolled his eyes, “I feel confident in the end, she will make the right decision and come home…where she belongs.” she emphasized those last few words and looked directly at Wyatt who met her gaze determinedly.  “Now,” she turned to Emma once more, “You and I will wait at the Mothership…”

 

“You’re seriously going to leave him to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over here?” Emma shot back, annoyed, as she pointed towards Wyatt. 

 

Carol looked back at him, “I don’t see why not.” She nodded as the two Rittenhouse operatives, both large men, flanked Wyatt on either side.  “Once you take care of the Master Sergeant, bring my daughter to the Mothership…” she paused, “when she realizes that I was right, she should come along with little argument.”

 

“You really don’t know a damn thing about Lucy, do you?” Wyatt spat out. 

 

“I know her much better than you do, Mr. Logan…Carol remarked with a sad smile, “Lucy may be stubborn, but she’s _my_ daughter.  Rittenhouse is in her blood…it’s part of who she is…and soon she’ll realize that it will be the only thing she can truly count on.”

 

With one final sneer and a meaningful look, Carol turned on her heel and headed down the road.  Emma followed closely behind, but not before she smirked viciously at Wyatt and quipped, “Have fun, boys.”

 

Wyatt stared after them as they made their way out of town. There were so many damn things Wyatt wanted to say to both of them, but at that very moment, he was being led off to the woods by the two Rittenhouse dicks Carol and Emma had left behind.

 

He was kicking himself for getting into this mess. Lucy and Rufus were depending on him and after all that time, being so damn careful, he let his emotions take over and it put them all in danger...not that he was particularly concerned about the two jokers who had been left to “deal with him.”  Not knowing what was happening at the jail cell, however, had him anxious as hell. The sun was dipping lower on the horizon and Wyatt knew it was just a matter of time before Lucy, Rufus, and the rest of the people accused today, would be led away from the prison and taken off to be hung. 

 

He had no idea what Carol Preston might have said to Lucy, but he didn’t believe for one second that she would ever willingly surrender herself over to Rittenhouse.  She may have her backed into a damn corner, but the Lucy he knew was a fighter, not the push over her mother wished her to be.  Hell, even when she thought he was dead, Lucy was ready to give up her own life to take down her mother and the twisted organization that she had claimed was her legacy…

 

But that wasn’t what was worrying him. 

 

Carol had said that Lucy would come back to her once realized her mother was right.  Right about what?   His mind raced as he thought over Emma and Carol’s conversation.  She had claimed that his actions to go after Lucy had been “predictable” and why wouldn’t they be?  He had declared himself the one to protect Lucy when her mother had so coldly rejected the idea after learning of her daughter’s subterfuge in 1918.   If Carol didn’t know that Wyatt had a weak spot for Lucy Preston, Emma certainly did. She had seen them together numerous times and Wyatt was sure she had reported all she knew…or thought she knew to Lucy’s mother.

 

It was then that Wyatt realized, Carol didn’t just want him out of the way, she wanted Lucy to think he didn’t care…and what better way to show he was indifferent to her, that she couldn’t depend on him, if he wasn’t there when she needed him most?  He hadn’t been at the jail cell, hell, he hadn’t even run to her aid in that tavern…and if he didn’t get to her in time…

 

He looked behind him as heard the slow rumble of a horse cart.  A large mob had gathered outside the jail, which Wyatt knew, with a stab of panic, meant that time was running short.      

 

They were still well within the boundaries of the town, though…and with so many people in the streets, it would be extremely difficult for him to break away without causing some sort of a scene.  He wasn’t worried about taking out the two dicks beside him, but he was pretty damn sure these straight-laced Puritans, who were so quick to string up innocent women, would have a field day with the him if he so much as shot one of these assholes in the arm. 

 

It felt like a damned eternity, but the moment they stepped clear of the town, Wyatt gave them no opportunity to get the best of him.  Kicking out hard at the man on his right, Wyatt landed him on his ass, before turning his attention to the man on his left who had already drawn his weapon. Gripping the man’s wrist and turning into his body, Wyatt slammed his elbow into his stomach until he loosened his hold on the gun which Wyatt then easily claimed.  Thus armed, Wyatt took cover behind a nearby tree as bullets whizzed by his head.  Clearly, the first jackass he had taken out had found his weapon and was determined to do the job he was getting paid for.  Desperate to get the hell out of there as fast as he could, Wyatt peered around the tree and took in their positions.  Both men were coming up upon him at different angles, but, Wyatt thought, he might be able to take care of them both if he was fast enough.

 

He just wished it wasn’t so damned risky. 

 

Taking a deep breath, he made a quick dive from behind his source of cover, firing his weapon as he did so.  One shot hit its mark, the other…not so much.  One Rittenhouse agent lay dead, the other let out a guttural groan as he gripped his knee in pain, desperately clawing at the leaves to reach the gun he had dropped when he had been hit.  Kicking it further out of his reach, Wyatt delivered a swift blow to his face, knocking the man out cold before grabbing the other gun and running like hell back to the jail house.

        

                                                                                                                    ****

 

As the accused were led out of the cellar prison, they were met with jeers from the awaiting crowd. Rufus elbowed his way over to Lucy as the prisoners were lined up to have their hands bound.  “Lucy…”Rufus whispered harshly, “where the hell is Wyatt? I get the whole dramatic rescue thing, but this Hail Mary stuff?  It’s crap…this isn’t the Super Bowl.”

 

Lucy wanted to agree with Rufus, but she found she couldn’t answer.  Her eyes darted to every face in the crowd, searching for Wyatt, not understanding why he hadn’t come for them yet. She knew he wouldn’t leave her, knew he would do everything in his power to save them, but after her mother’s visit, after her mother’s smug confidence that Wyatt wouldn’t come, she began to be overtaken by panic at the thought that something terrible had happened to him. 

 

Leaning towards Rufus, she muttered in his ear, “I have a knife in my sleeve, just in case…but you’re going to have to walk me through this…” she swallowed as she attempted to steady her voice, “I don’t think I can do this without you.” 

 

Rufus nodded at her, “I can do that…but seriously…where the hell is Wyatt?”  They were being shoved forward now, forced to march forward surrounded by angry townspeople.  “Oh, look…” Rufus exclaimed, “torches and pitchforks, how original.” 

 

“I think this was the original, Rufus.” Lucy murmured as they made their way through the town. Allowing her wrist to drop, Lucy caught the knife as it fell into her bound hand.  With her brow furrowed in concentration, she bent her fingers forward, willing herself to work through the pain and cut through the ropes that bound her hands.  She could feel the fibers biting into her skin, inflaming it, but she had no time to spare on that discomfort.  She knew that if something had happened to Wyatt, she was the only chance they had at getting out of this alive.  She gasped in pain as she worked at the ropes.  “Rufus,” she asked, “is it making any difference?”

 

“You’re through the first layer Lucy, but you’ve got three more to go.” Rufus said apologetically. “Maybe once you get through the second loop, you’ll be able to get your hands free?”

 

Nodding as tears of pain sprung to her eyes, she continued twisting her stinging wrists in the rope in an attempt to saw through the remaining bonds.  They were on the outskirts of the town now and Lucy was once again hit with the overwhelming sense of dread that something terrible had happened to Wyatt.  Her eyes searched for him among the jeering townsfolk that lined the street, among the people following the wagon cart, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

 

So focused she was on Wyatt and breaking free of her bonds, that she didn’t realize where they were until the entire procession had come to an unnerving halt.  There, looming over them, was the hangman’s noose, swinging ominously in the slight wind that blew through the forest of mostly naked trees. Terrified by the sight of something so awful, Lucy’s hands shook despite her attempts to keep them steady and as a result, the knife she had been holding, the knife that was their only chance at salvation without Wyatt, fell from her trembling fingers and onto the leaf strewn path.  Lucy’s heart sank as she realized what had happened and with a gasp she whispered through her tears, “Rufus…I dropped it.  I’m…I’m so sorry.”

 

She was hardly paying attention to the rousing voice of John Hathorn as he read off the reasons they had been brought to the tree to be hung.  Cheers from the crowd followed his statement and before she knew it, a rough hand was around her arm, leading her to the gallows.  She could hear Rufus’ shouts of panic from behind her, but she did not dare turn to look at the crowd.  If this was how she was going to die, she was going to die in dignity. She closed her eyes as the thick noose was placed around her neck by calloused and rough hands.  She could smell the acrid breath of the executioner as he yanked her hair out from beneath the rope, and tightened it around her neck.  She swallowed hard as she awaited the command that would end her life and just hoped it would be quick. 

 

But the command never came. 

 

With a gasp, Lucy’s eyes shot open and she turned her head as she heard Wyatt shouting her name.  He was racing towards her, his gun drawn, looking absolutely murderous.

 

‘Get the hell away from her!” he gritted out as he reached the edge of the rocky ledge she was standing on.  With one quick look towards John Hathorn, however, the executioner made a lunge at Lucy in an attempt to shove her off her perch.  Sensing what he was doing, Lucy dug her heels into the rock face in an attempt to keep herself from hurtling forward but Wyatt, pissed as hell that Lucy had been touched in the first place, took careful aim and fired his weapon. 

 

Wyatt saw it all as if in slow motion.  Instead of falling backwards, the man fell forwards into Lucy knocking her off her balance and causing her to pitch forward off the rock.  In a desperate lunge, Wyatt grasped at her dress, pulling her back as her feet desperately sought to find purchase on the rock face once more. Clinging to her and attempting to pull her back to safety, Wyatt tried to make a grab for the noose, but physics and time were working against him.  With a whole mob of angry townspeople behind them, Wyatt wasn’t going to risk them over running them, not when Lucy’s neck was literally on the line. He yanked at her bonds, loosening them, before aiming his gun once more at the taut rope line hanging from the branch.  The shot that pierced it indeed split the cord, though not completely.  “Lucy!” Wyatt yelled out, ‘I’m gonna let you go, brace yourself for a fall!”

 

“What?” Lucy gasped out, but Wyatt had already turned to fight off the few men that had been brave enough to approach him.  Swinging forward, Lucy felt the rope tighten around her neck momentarily before the weakened line snapped and she crashed to the ground with a terrifying drop.  Now able to freely move her wrists, Lucy slipped out of the ropes that had her hands bound and raced back to help Rufus.

 

The scene was complete pandemonium.   

 

Wyatt, now holding a torch he had wrested from one of the villagers, had used it to set fire to the horse cart and sent it careening through the mob, causing people to run and panic.  Rufus, seeing Lucy, called out for her as she quickly made her way towards him.  Within a few moments, she almost had his hands untied when they were beset upon by a burly man wielding the very knife she had dropped. 

 

He had raised his arm to strike, but before he could deliver the blow, Wyatt was there, throwing his arm out to block it.  Letting out a grunt as the blade gashed his arm, Wyatt turned and dealt a devastating blow to the man’s throat, knocking him out cold.  “Are you okay?” he asked between heavy breaths as he crouched down next to Lucy and Rufus. 

 

“Wyatt…” Lucy cried out, “your arm.”  The gash was long and deep and Wyatt was bleeding heavily. 

 

“It’s fine,” he muttered as he untied Rufus’ bonds.  “We need to get the hell out of here.”

 

“Not before we get them to safety.” Lucy nodded towards the group of her fellow prisoners as she ripped off a strip of her dress with shaking hands. 

 

“Lucy…” Wyatt argued as he lifted a bloody hand towards the town, “I can guarantee you those assholes will be back…and this time, they’ll be bringing muskets.”

 

Lucy, however, stood her ground.  “Wyatt…I’m not leaving them to die.”

 

“Are they supposed to be saved?” Wyatt asked in irritation.  “I may not know Salem like Flynn does, but I’m pretty damn sure none of those people are supposed to survive.”

 

“Abby is.” Lucy argued as she tied the strip of her dress around Wyatt’s gash, noting with horror that it immediately was soaked with blood.  Ripping off more of her dress, Lucy kept tying strips as she maintained, “We _have_ to save Abby, or Benjamin Franklin will never be born….and you can’t possibly expect me to leave the others behind to die.” She looked at Wyatt directly in the eye and saw his resistance fading away.  She knew he was only concerned for their safety, but she also knew that he wasn’t one to leave innocent people to die.  When Wyatt let out a resigned sigh, she turned to Rufus quickly and asked, “Can you untie them?”

 

“I like this Lucy.” Rufus quipped as he looked at Wyatt, “She may be a Sarah Connor, invite Flynn into the bunker, doesn’t give two shits about history, Lucy…but I dig her.”

 

As Rufus picked up the discarded knife and made his way over to the other victims, Wyatt smirked at Lucy as she continued to wrap his arm, “He’s got a point, you know?  You aren’t the same Lucy Preston who argued with me over Von Braun and the Hindenburg.”

 

“Is that a problem?” she asked as she tied another strip.

 

“No…” Wyatt muttered, “but then again, I’m not the one who’s supposed to care about saving history.”

 

Lucy sighed, “I can’t sit back and watch innocent people die anymore.”

 

Wyatt nodded thoughtfully, before reaching out and rubbing her arm supportively, “Then let’s go get them the hell out of here.” He murmured as he helped her up.

 

Rufus had just finished cutting the last of the bonds when Lucy and Wyatt approached, all of the accused breathing out their thanks and hugging them as they stood up to go. Lucy pulled Abby to the side and instructed, “Get them to Boston…you all will be safe there.”

 

With a final nod of thanks, Lucy watched as the men and women whom she had been imprisoned made their way out of Salem and to safety.  All of them but one was supposed to die.  She vaguely wondered what such a change would do to the timeline, but she found that she didn’t care.  It had been her mother who had urged her to study history, to concern herself over every excruciating detail about people and events long since passed, and yet, this same woman who had essentially built the History Department at Stanford, was the same woman who had just tried to erase Benjamin Franklin from history. 

 

“To hell with my mother,” Lucy muttered under her breath.    

 

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything before, Lucy” Rufus quipped as he brushed past her, “but I’m gonna have to agree with that statement.”

 

“That makes three of us.” Wyatt agreed as he urged them to hurry.  They could already hear the shouts of the townspeople through the trees and as Wyatt admitted, he only had “two damn bullets left” and he was “pretty sure that wasn’t going to be enough to take care of a bunch of pissed off Puritans.”

 

Hardly daring to stop for even a moment to rest, they made their way back down the lane to the LifeBoat.  Once safely inside, the finally felt like they could breathe. 

 

“Damn, Wyatt” Rufus breathed out, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but you are the king of close calls.  Where the hell were you?”

 

Grimacing as he threaded his arms through the harness, he gritted out, “I’d love to talk about this, Rufus…but first, I’d like to get the hell out of this century.”  Groaning once more as he attempted to buckle his harness, Lucy leaned forward with a soft smile and began working at his harness.  Wyatt’s hands stilled as he watched her nimbly working her blood-stained fingers along the straps. “Isn’t that my job?” Wyatt murmured with half a smirk. 

 

Lucy gave him a wan smile, her eyes brimming with tears from the awfulness of her day.  She didn’t respond until she sat back and secured her own harness, whispering in a quavering voice, “Well, seeing as I wouldn’t be here without you, it’s the least I could do.”

 

Wyatt looked back at her, suddenly realizing for the first time just how close he had come to losing her. He reached out with his uninjured arm and gripped her hand, squeezing it as silent tears began to fall from Lucy’s eyes. “Let’s get the hell out of here, Rufus.” Wyatt muttered mechanically. 

 

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Rufus quipped as he punched in the final coordinates, “I know I’ve hated a lot of our missions…but I _really_ hated this one.”

 

Lucy sniffed as she offered him a small smile, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't intended on this chapter being SO long...but dangit those action sequences require so much build up...and then there's all the feels in this one too. Yes, I've continued to change things...and you should probably get comfortable with that, because things will start veering off from the other timeline quite a bit here in the next few chapters. 
> 
> I hope that you've enjoyed this update. Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate the encouragement so much.


	4. Aftermath

Tensions in the bunker were high. 

 

The silo remained unnervingly empty as the minutes turned to hours and the home team of Agent Christopher, Jiya and Connor Mason were beginning to get nervous. It wasn’t necessarily that the mission had gone beyond what they had come to expect from these operations – hell, some missions over the past two years, had lasted days.

 

No, it was the mission itself.

 

The Salem Witch Trials, being as notorious as they were, made them anxious enough, but Garcia Flynn, still bitter over their refusal to officially place him on the team, had spent the last few hours regaling them with such horrifying tales of tortures, brandings and hangings, it made them all wish they could inflict those same kinds of tortures on him so he would, as Mason so eloquently stated, “shut the bloody hell up.”    

 

Not deterred in the slightest, Flynn went on to describe, in excruciating detail, the fate of one Giles Corey who, with his wife, was accused of witchcraft.  Because he refused to confess, he was crushed over the course of three days in an especially brutal torture method of the day known as _peine forte et dure_ , or pressing.  His wife, Martha would be hung three days later…or, as Flynn pointed out  - September 22, 1692 – the very day the team had travelled to.  “The paranoia was so high in Salem…anyone who was different, anyone who came in with “dangerous ideas” was at risk of being accused.”  Flynn informed them as he gave a meaningful glance around the room, “Imagine what they would do to a couple of time travelers…one slip up…one word about injustice or how unfair these trials are and” Flynn snapped his fingers dramatically, “they’d be sentenced to hang.” 

 

Letting out a collective huff, Mason and Jiya went back to whatever menial task they were attempting to work on in the team’s absence. It wasn’t that they had an actual task to perform, rather it served to distract them, to help pass the time by keeping them busy…even if it was just rechecking systems for what seemed like the hundredth time.

 

Agent Christopher, likewise, would knit scarves.  Not particularly skilled in that pass time of choice, her handiwork was always something of an inside joke among the bunker inhabitants.  Today, however, with the added pressure of Garcia Flynn skulking about and making them all agitated and nervous, her scarf was now a mangled, knotted mess.  She was furiously pulling out the stitches on her latest line when she had finally decided she had heard enough.     

 

“One phone call is all I need to make.” Agent Christopher blurted out angrily.  “One…and you’ll be back in prison where you belong.”  Flynn smirked at her sarcastically as she continued, “Imagine what they’d do to _you_ in there.  You want protection? “Flynn gave her a bit of an eye roll as he nodded his head, “Then don’t test my patience.”

 

It was amid this uncomfortable setting that the Lifeboat finally materialized, resulting in a combined sigh of relief from those left behind…well, most of them anyway. 

 

It was clearly evident, when the hatch opened and the team stepped out, that this mission had not gone off without a hitch.  Wyatt, bloodied and grimacing, was gripping his arm as Lucy, with obvious rope burns on her neck and wrists, helped him down the stairs.  While most of the “home” team approached them with concern, Garcia Flynn, ever one to cause trouble, glanced over lazily and called out, “maybe I should have gone along after all.” 

 

If he was hoping to get a rise out of Wyatt with that statement, he was not disappointed. After everything they had gone through that night, after nearly losing Lucy, Wyatt was in no mood to deal with Flynn’s snark, injury be damned.  Clenching his jaw and his fist, he began to march determinedly towards Flynn, who looked as if he would enjoy nothing more than taking a few shots at Wyatt.  While there seemed to be no objection from anybody else in the bunker to see Wyatt give Garcia Flynn the ass kicking of a lifetime, Lucy however, pulled Wyatt back gently, glaring at Flynn as she murmured, “He’s not worth it, Wyatt.  Don’t let him get to you.” 

 

Glowering, Wyatt stepped away from Flynn as Lucy pull him back to the rest of the gathered team.  Flynn, smirking broadly, happy to have gotten under Wyatt’s skin, went back to his book.    
  


After quickly inspecting Wyatt’s injury, Agent Christopher deemed it necessary for him to receive medical attention.  She asked Jiya to call in a medical unit and then asked the team to convene for an immediate debrief. 

 

Realizing that she was going to have to relive the entire ordeal, Lucy let out an involuntary groan as she raised a shaking hand to her forehead in apparent frustration.  Wyatt, noticing this, argued with Agent Christopher that their debrief could wait until the morning so that each of them could have a chance to rest and process everything that had happened.  He sure as hell didn’t want to relive this night just yet, but Lucy…Lucy had the double whammy of near death and betrayal from her very own mother to deal with. 

 

While appreciating Wyatt’s concern on her behalf, Lucy didn’t want to let any of what had happened fester overnight.  She had long since discovered of these missions that no matter how terrible, it was best to just get it all out at once and be done with it, rather than have to think about it and relive it again after a good night’s sleep.  “It’s fine, Wyatt.” she muttered miserably, “Let’s just get it over with.”

 

“Good call, Lucy.” Flynn announced from his chair where he sat still reading his book.  “Better to go back over the events right away, while it’s still fresh in your mind rather than risk forgetting some vital piece of information.”  He raised his eyebrows as he turned a page and added, “I’m surprised Wyatt would argue against it…you’d think he know better with his background.”

 

“Does he have to be here?” Wyatt spat out looking behind him towards Flynn.  “He’s not part of this team, he shouldn’t be listening in on the debriefs.”

 

“I am here to offer you intel,” Flynn stated matter of factly without looking up from his page. “How can I do _my_ job if I’m not aware of your missions and what happened on them, hmm?”

 

Agent Christopher sighed and shook her head, “He’s right, Wyatt.  As much as I hate to use him, he could provide insight to things we may overlook.”  She looked towards Lucy for support, “He does know more about Rittenhouse than we do…and that, at least, is something.”

 

If there was anyone Wyatt would have preferred not to hear this particular debrief, it was Garcia Flynn. It was bad enough that he was already mocking them for their obvious trouble on the mission, but for him to know that he had been captured by Emma and Carol while Lucy and Rufus were imprisoned? It was just adding insult to injury. Wyatt huffed out a breath and sank down on a stool next to Lucy, shooting daggers at Flynn who continued to read his book with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

 

Though extremely uncomfortable, the debriefing session was mercifully short.  Doing her best to maintain her composure under the circumstances, Lucy answered every question mechanically, relating the facts regarding her imprisonment with little more than a waver in her voice, though she absolutely refused to elaborate on what Rufus dubbed, “that time when Lucy nearly got lynched by a bunch of damn Pilgrims.”

 

Lucy had not planned on sharing her mother’s visit to her in prison…in fact, she had completely glossed it over…something that did not escape Wyatt’s notice. 

 

He looked at her intently as she averted her eyes from the penetrating stare of Agent Christopher who asked her gently if there was anything else that she needed to add in the mission report. 

 

“No.” Lucy muttered softly. “Nothing.”

 

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Agent Christopher nodded and turned to question Rufus. Wyatt had just leaned over to talk to Lucy quietly about her failure to mention her mother’s visit, when Rufus unwittingly spilled the beans…

 

“…of course, we were worried not knowing where Wyatt was…but since Lucy had that knife…”

 

“Knife?” Agent Christopher turned back to Lucy, “You didn’t say anything in your report about a knife…”

 

“That was because there was no need to talk about it.” Lucy gritted out meaningfully at a contrite Rufus. “I dropped it.” Lucy explained, “So it didn’t help us anyway.”

 

“Where did you get the knife?” Agent Christopher pressed. 

 

Lucy heaved out a sigh. Rufus had been the only one to know that Carol Preston had visited Lucy in the jail cell…and she had wanted to keep it that way.  It had been humiliating enough to have her own mother accuse her and send her to hang, but how much more humiliating would it be to have to divulge all that she had told her in that prison?  One look at Wyatt and Lucy could see his mounting guilt.  He was the man who had never forgiven himself for the death of his wife, after all, and while Lucy hadn’t been seriously hurt in the whole Salem ordeal, she couldn’t help but notice the way he flinched during her debriefing session…particularly when she spoke about her short time at the gallows. 

 

She still had no idea what had happened to him, what had prevented him from getting to them sooner, but she was sure that her mother had been behind it.  After everything she had accused Wyatt with in that cell…and after her own conversation with Wyatt that morning, Lucy felt that by divulging those things, especially in front of Garcia Flynn, it would only serve to make him feel that guilt all the more…and, she that, she worried, would adversely affect their burgeoning relationship. 

 

Now, more than ever, she wished she had never said anything about Jessica that morning…if anything, but to be able to flatly deny ever feeling that she had reason to doubt that Wyatt would always be there to protect her.  Now, after her mother’s pointed manipulation, using her very real fears and insecurities against her…against Wyatt…how on Earth could she look him in the eye and assure him that her mother’s words had not meant anything, when those were the very things she had expressed concern about earlier that day?  It was _that_ worry, more than anything, that had Lucy agonizing over disclosing the whole truth of her mother’s visit to her in that cell.

 

Still, as she looked towards an apologetic Rufus, she knew that there was no going back now that the cat was out of the bag.  No matter how awkward and uncomfortable this revelation, she was going to have disclose it. Clenching her eyes shut, Lucy began, “I…”

 

“I gave it to her.” Wyatt interrupted, ignoring the shocked looks from both Lucy and Rufus as he continued, “I slipped it to her before I left the tavern…just in case someone tried to do anything to either of them before I got back.”

 

“I see.” Agent Christopher noted as she pursed her lips, her eyes scanning the faces of all three of them, none of them meeting her questioning gaze.  If she was doubtful of Wyatt’s admittance, she wasn’t the only one. Garcia Flynn, watching all of this unfold, chuckled dryly to himself, shaking his head, before returning once more to his book. 

 

“And Wyatt, since you were not detained with the others…what took you so long to come to their aid when the time came for them to be executed?” Agent Christopher asked as she narrowed her eyes. 

 

Wyatt cast a sideways glance at Lucy, grateful for at least the chance to defend his actions…or rather, inactions, the best way he could.  He cleared his throat and answered somewhat truthfully, “I ran into a bit of trouble right before they came out of the prison.”

 

“Define trouble.” Agent Christopher stated as she sat poised to take his statement.

 

“Emma, a couple of Rittenhouse goons…” Wyatt said with a frown, before quickly adding, “and Lucy’s mother.

 

Lucy’s eyes darted to Wyatt’s, her face flushing with the shame of knowing that her mother was indeed behind Wyatt’s delayed arrival.  Agent Christopher, however, took no notice of Lucy’s embarrassment, and instead pressed further, “And is that how you were injured?”

 

“No,” Lucy answered for him. “He was injured because he was protecting me and Rufus.”  As if to make up for whatever hell her mother had put him through, Lucy added quietly, “Neither of us would be here without him.”

 

Though Lucy’s words were barely audible outside the confines of the group, the force of their meaning resonated as if she had shouted it from the rooftops.  Agent Christopher smiled proudly as she wrote a few notes, Rufus nodded in fervent agreement, but Wyatt looked as if he had no idea what he had done to earn him such praise. 

 

“Lucy…” he whispered, his face etched in guilt and regret, but at that moment, Jiya approached the huddled group, leading the medical unit towards them.  Seeing them, Agent Christopher dismissed Wyatt who left reluctantly, looking back at Lucy with a face filled with inexpressible emotion.

 

She watched as he disappeared down the hall. She didn’t quite understand why he had lied for her, but the gratitude she felt towards him for doing so matched the appreciation she had that he was, despite what her mother had tried to get her to believe, always there to protect her. As thankful as she was for Wyatt’s discretion in regards to the truth behind the knife, though, she couldn’t help but feel a small amount of apprehension as to the why he had done it.  He had admitted that he was detained by her mother and Emma…would it be so implausible to believe that her mother had given him a similar speech to the one she had given her? 

 

With those thoughts and more buzzing around in her mind, Lucy couldn’t even concentrate on the rest of the debriefing.  If she did chime in to Rufus’ narrative, it was because she was prompted to do so and not because she was eager to share any more than she already had.  Agent Christopher, noting Lucy’s quiet contemplation, finally dismissed her with the explicit instruction that she clean herself up and get some much-needed rest.  Hardly needing that prompting, Lucy eagerly made her way to the showers anxious to get out of the 17thcentury garments that only served as a grim reminder to what they had all gone through. 

 

She found a fresh set of pajamas outside of the closed door to her shared bedroom with Wyatt.  From the faint noises within, she could discern that the medical team was still attending to Wyatt’s injury.  Lucy felt another rush of gratitude towards him for remembering her aversion to blood and gore.  Clearly, he knew that she would be venturing to the showers after the debrief and not wanting her to see the grim operation within, he had left her a change of clothes. 

 

The shower was warm and welcoming.  Lucy was more than ready to wash away the remnants of her time in Salem.  Some things, however, she would never be able to wash away.  Her mother’s betrayal, the fear she felt, the horrible sense of injustice as she sat in that cell full of innocent victims, the phantom feel of the rope around her neck…

 

The hot water may have been soothing to her tense and aching muscles, but the steady stream of water pelting against her raw and inflamed skin had her wincing in pain.  Her hands shook as she gingerly ran her fingers over the rope burn on her neck; the stinging pain from the water doing nothing to help her forget just how close she had come to death.

 

And suddenly, it was all too much. 

 

Allowing the sound of running water to mask the sound of her tears, she broke down and cried.  With gasping breaths, she allowed the dam to burst; all of the hurt, sadness and fears she had felt in the last few hours came tumbling out making her entire body shake with the force of her emotions. She had no idea how long she had stood beneath the spray, shedding the onslaught of tears she had held back for so long, but a knock at the bathroom door had her frantically attempting to pull herself together. 

 

Turning off the water and wrapping herself in a towel, Lucy called through the door that she was just going to be another minute.  Quickly drying off and slipping into her pajamas, Lucy checked her reflection, noting with apprehension, that her eyes were red and puffy. 

 

She couldn’t let Wyatt see her like this. She wouldn’t contribute to his feelings of self-reproach and guilt, not after he had done so much for her.  Lying as he did, saving her the mortification of reliving an awkward conversation with her mother, leaving her a change of clothes, saving her life...she knew him well enough to know that if he saw Lucy blubbering about how close she had come to being hung, he would feel all the responsibility for it, even though he had done nothing wrong.  Splashing some cool water on her face in the sink, she turned and wrenched open the bathroom door to find, much to her dismay, Wyatt standing on the other side of it.

 

“Oh.” Lucy gasped out in surprise as she took in his appearance. He had obviously already showered. He was standing before her wearing his own freshly laundered loungers, looking and smelling cleaner than he had before he was dismissed from the debriefing session.  His arm, which had been wrapped in strips of her dirty and dusty gown, was now freshly bandaged and lying in a sling.

 

Wyatt looked back at her, his face darkening with emotion as he took in her appearance.  Casting his eyes downward he muttered, “They’re waiting for you.”

 

Thinking that Agent Christopher had more questions to assault her with, Lucy let out a derisive sigh as she made to move past Wyatt and back down the hall towards the common area. 

 

“No, Lucy…” Wyatt said softly as he gently tugged at her arm, “the medical team…they’re waiting for you in…our room.”

 

“Why?”  Lucy asked, her face awash in confusion, “Becau..because of this?” she asked as she pointed to her rope burns.  “Wyatt, it’s fine.” she said in an unsteady voice, “Really…it’s nothing.”

 

“Lucy…” Wyatt pleaded, “just…just let them check you, okay?”

 

She could see it…the guilt he was feeling weighing down on him like a millstone.  He could barely bring himself to look at her and when he did, shame was written all over his face.  She nodded her head as fresh tears threatened to spill out onto her cheeks, “Okay.” she whispered as she offered him an understanding smile.

 

Wyatt stood near the doorway, anxiously watching as the medical team gave Lucy a thorough examination. Checking her vitals, her rope burns, and the turn of her neck they were about to pack up and leave, when Wyatt demanded that they check her ankles because he had noticed she was walking with a slight limp. 

 

“Wyatt…” Lucy moaned, “we just walked about 10 miles in 17thcentury shoes.  We’re all walking a little funny.”

 

“Lucy, you had a hard drop…just let them check your ankles.” Wyatt pleaded. 

 

When the medical announced that there didn’t seem to be much wrong with her feet, besides a few blisters, Lucy did her best to control the overwhelming desire to lob an “I told you so” at Wyatt who was still nervously pacing the room watching as the medical team issued Lucy some balm for her rope burns and placed some bandages on her abused feet.  Instead, Lucy tried to offer him a reassuring smile as the medical team packed up their things, giving them last minute instructions on how to care for their injuries and finally prescribing a good night’s sleep for the both of them.  Wyatt, however, was far from reassured.  As the team exited the room, he sank down on the bed, resting his head in his hands looking absolutely shaken.  Lucy, seeing this, made her way over and sat next to him, asking softly, “Wyatt, are you okay?”

 

He let out a derisive laugh. 

 

“How’s your arm?” Lucy asked after a few moments. 

 

“It’s fine.” Wyatt grunted out, still holding his head in his hands. 

 

“Well, then…that’s good. We’re both fine.” Lucy muttered awkwardly. 

 

Wyatt slowly lifted his head, staring at her in utter disbelief.  ‘Lucy…you almost died tonight.”

 

Swallowing back the tears that were fighting their way to the surface once more, Lucy answered softly, “But I didn’t, Wyatt…I’m fine. Really.”

 

The remnants of her crying fit must have been painfully obvious to Wyatt.  Whatever brave face Lucy was trying to present, didn’t fool him one bit, “The hell you are.” Wyatt scoffed.

 

“Really, Wyatt…” Lucy pressed, “…I’m okay, the medical team was just here…there’s nothing wrong with me. You heard them.”

 

Wyatt stared back at her, silently communicating to her through his meaningful look that he wasn’t talking about her physical injuries…and he knew that she knew exactly what he meant. “I should have never…he exclaimed as he pushed himself off the bed and began pacing, “I should have never let my guard down…Rufus was right, that was too damn close.”

 

“No, Wyatt.” Lucy exclaimed firmly, her anxiety over Wyatt’s feeling of guilt mounting.  “Listen to me…this is not your fault at all.  Wyatt…my _mother_ did this…not you.”  She colored as she admitted softly, “If I had done what she wanted…” she bit her lip in frustration, “Wyatt, this was just part of her plan…to get me to come home.”

 

“I know all about that Lucy.” Wyatt huffed out.   

 

She gaped at him, “What? How?” At Wyatt’s clenched jaw and eye roll, she gasped out in realization, her worst fears being confirmed as she asked, “You…you talked to my mother, didn’t you?”

 

Wyatt nodded as he answered flatly, “Yeah, I talked to her.” Wyatt added, “After she had seen you.”    

 

“Oh.” Lucy breathed out, horrified by what her mother might have said to Wyatt.  After everything she had said to her in that jail cell, after the heartless and shameful way she had tried to manipulate her, what on Earth could have said to him?   

 

He scoffed as he turned a questioning glance her way, “Let me guess, she told you I wouldn’t come for you, didn’t she?  Tried to make you doubt me even more than you already do so that you would go back with her to Rittenhouse.”

 

Lucy stared back at him, stunned.  He had hit the figurative nail on the head, but it wasn’t that which filled her with untold amounts of disgrace…it was his words, his belief, that Lucy had indeed, doubted him. 

 

Suddenly, Lucy was back to thinking about that knife and how Wyatt had lied to Agent Christopher about how Lucy had come by it.  Why else would he have done that, but to save Lucy the trouble of revealing to the entire team that Carol Preston had given her that knife as a means of escape…not just from the hangman’s noose, but from the team, and from the eventual hurt that would come when, as her mother so coldly suggested, Lucy realized that Wyatt would never care for her in the same way he cared for Jessica.

 

No wonder Wyatt’s guilt seemed to be so paramount.  If Carol Preston had accused Wyatt of being insincere and untrustworthy in regards to his feelings for Lucy right on the heels of Lucy’s own expressed doubt, was it any wonder that her near escape from the hangman’s noose had him feeling that a bit defensive?  That perhaps Lucy would believe that his absence in her time of need was evidence of his indifference to her? 

 

Lucy covered her face with her hands, inwardly berating herself for allowing her stupid doubts to become ammunition against the only person she wholly trusted. 

 

Taking her silence as confirmation of the truth, Wyatt bit his lip and nodded.  Whatever doubts Lucy had had about him that morning, Wyatt thought, had probably come back ten-fold as she stood there with that noose around her neck.

 

He hated himself for ever giving her any reason to doubt him.  That, he believed, was the reason she hadn’t mentioned her mother’s visit to Agent Christopher in the first place; she _had_ doubted.  He could see it all over her face as they awaited her answer to Agent Christopher’s question about the knife. 

 

He knew it had to be hell for Lucy.  She was torn between her mother and the team.  He would never believe for one second that Lucy would ever betray them for Rittenhouse, but he also knew how she felt about her mother.  She idolized her…and no matter what she had done, she was still her mother.  So, would it be so difficult to believe that in a moment of weakness, Lucy would believe that she had reason to doubt Wyatt?  After their conversation this morning, hadn’t she already told him she had? 

 

He could see her struggling to answer the question about that knife, knowing that it would force her to reveal a conversation; a conversation which would only highlight the fact that she had been disappointed by the two people in the world she should have been able to trust above all else.   

 

So, he lied to spare her the dilemma.  He lied so Lucy wouldn’t have to go through the emotional hell of having to relive a moment when her expressed fears and insecurities were used against her as a weapon. Lucy had been put in a difficult position and while he took pride in the fact that he had been right, that Lucy would rather die than betray the team, he hated that she had ever believed, even if it was just for a moment, that he wouldn’t have come for her.

 

He had hoped that by saving her he would be able to re-establish that trust, to prove himself to her…but that hope was dashed to pieces the moment he heard her crying alone in the bathroom.   

 

She doubted him.  She didn’t trust him enough to even be the shoulder she could cry on. 

 

Wyatt’s face twisted in anguish as he lifted a gentle hand to her throat, remembering how horrified he had been to see that noose around her neck.  He ran a soft finger over the angry rope burns and gasped out, “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

 

Determined more than ever to not breakdown in front of Wyatt, Lucy gripped onto his hand firmly and attempted to help him get over his guilt, “Wyatt…listen to me.  There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” She shook her head, “You saved my life.”

 

“I almost didn’t make it.” he began, “If I had been just a few more seconds late…” he shuddered at the thought.  Emma’s taunt from earlier, though he had not shown in at the time, affected him deeply. Losing Jessica, the way he had, had been one of the worst experiences of his life.  Having been choked a fair few times in his career as a Delta Force soldier, he knew how terrifying her last moments must have been; a tight hand around her throat, the desperate and frantic need for air that wouldn’t come no matter how many times she must have tried to take a breath, the moment when she must have realized that help wouldn’t come, that her life was ending. He had beaten himself up over his inability to protect her from that violent end and now, Lucy had almost met a similar fate…all because he had been so damn careless.

 

“But you weren’t.  You got there in time, Wyatt.” Lucy maintained as she reached out for him, “I’m fine.  Rufus is fine.”  Lucy soothed. 

 

He looked at her doubtfully, pointing to her neck, “I’d hardly call that fine, Lucy.”

 

Lucy threw up her hands in exasperation, ‘What do you want me to say, Wyatt?  That I was scared?” She let out a derisive laugh, “Yes…I was scared. I was terrified…but Wyatt, you can’t beat yourself up over this…it wasn’t your fault.” 

 

“The hell it isn’t.” Wyatt argued.  “I knew she was looking for me, Lucy…but I still left that damn barn when I saw her head to that jailhouse.”  He cursed under his breath before he muttered, “I should never have done that…I should have just waited.” He scoffed, “Instead, I fell right into her trap…your mother’s whole plan was to make you think you couldn’t count on us…on me…and she was right…you almost died, because of me.”

 

“No, Wyatt.” Lucy remonstrated, her voice thick with emotion as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and turned him to face her, “I almost died because of her…” she nodded as fresh tears pooled in her eyes, “…I am here, because of _you_.”  He turned his face away from her, angry with himself, until Lucy continued softly, “I never doubted you.”  Wyatt’s eyes darted to hers, hardly daring to believe it until Lucy added firmly, “I knew you would come.”  As Wyatt stared at her intently, she reached out for him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, thanking him for saving her, for being the one she could count on to protect her… 

 

Wyatt wrapped his one good arm around her and pulled her close, returning her kiss measure for measure until he his emotions got the better of him and he pulled away.  With tears in his eyes, he cupped the side of her head with his hand and gasped out through his tears, “I almost lost you.” 

 

Lucy blinked away her own tears as she shook her head and whispered, “No, you didn’t.” 

 

Not satisfied with being apart from her for one more second, Wyatt pulled her to him once more, capturing her lips in a slow and passionate kiss.  Hollywood 1941 had been the figurative damn bursting on their relationship. They had danced around the idea of possibilities for so long, that when the opportunity for them to finally act on their feelings arose, they did so with a frenzied passion. 

 

This time was different. 

 

Not quite able to put into words just how much Lucy meant to him, Wyatt tried to communicate the best he could through loving caresses and gentle, but passionate kisses.  As he lowered her onto their shared bed, he grimaced slightly from the pain in his arm, but when Lucy startled and began to concern herself over him, he shrugged it off, along with the damned sling, and took her right back into his arms again, determined to show her that he wasn’t about to let anything keep them apart…not even if it meant having every single one of his stitches replaced.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally VERY VERY VERY long...and those of you who have read my stories before know that I hate proofing long chapters. I tried....I really did, but the more I proofed, the longer the chapter got and as it was sitting right at 10k words, I decided to split it right in half. I think I left it in a good enough place, plus t gives me a chance to write out the following chapter without you having to wait very long for the next chapter update. 
> 
> As for what you received here, it's kind of filler....I get that...not a lot of action happening...but one of the reasons I HATE the Salem episode...and really dislike Season 2 in general is because we didn't have these heart to heart conversations that we got in Season 1. I understand the 10 episode Season sort of screwed us in that respect, but to me, especially after all the emotional hurt that Lucy suffered in Salem alone, there should have been some conversation with SOMEONE...ANYONE...about how all of that affected her. 
> 
> In terms of this fic, I wanted it to be a bonding moment for Lucy and Wyatt and I hope that I delivered in that respect. There's so many thing I wish we would have gotten...I'm still mad that we didn't see more concern from Wyatt in the actual Season 2 when she came back injured. I feel like it was completely OOC for him to see Lucy hurt and then immediately go beg Jessica for a second chance...UGH....don't even get me started. That's not the Wyatt from Red Scare who couldn't even stand the idea of Lucy staying behind in 1954 with Flynn. But I digress! Tomorrow is my youngest's birthday and so I will be busy most of tomorrow and this weekend, but because the next chapter is essentially finished (minus the proofing) it shouldn't be long before i can update this again. 
> 
> I also have a FLUFFY Valentines fic (making up for lost time theme) waiting to published....I'm just trying to wait until we get a little closer to the holiday to put that one out for you - it's ALL FLUFF, so just be prepared for cotton candy sweetness. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate you all so much and absolutely love hearing from you. It brightens my day and warms my soul...which, during these frigid times, is a beautiful thing.


	5. A Reckless Hothead and a Bossy Know it all.

Sleep had been something of a rarity in Lucy Preston’s life since the moment she had taken that first trip to 1937. 

 

Losing Amy was always something that stayed with her.  There wasn’t a mission that went by that she didn’t think of the consequences that might await them when they returned…some other loved one erased, some other person forgotten.  Amy’s erasure had been traumatic but it didn’t stop her from having that glimmer of hope that perhaps someday they would come back from some distant point in time and she would somehow be there…restored.  That glimmer of hope, however, didn’t stop her from awaking in the middle of the night, crying out for the sister that no longer existed. 

 

If she wasn’t dreaming about Amy, Lucy’s sleep would be disrupted by the terrifying experiences she had lived through over the past year.  The fiery crash of the Hindenburg, Lincoln’s final moments, the heart wrenching deaths of Bonnie and Clyde, being trapped in that furnace by H.H. Holmes…each mission seemed to carry with it a new horror that was filed away in her subconscious, only to be recalled in horrifying detail when she finally found a few moments of rest.

 

It was hardly surprising then, that Lucy found her sleep punctuated by nightmares surrounding their ordeal in Salem.  While it was bad enough to have to suffer through all of that once, without having to relive it in her dreams, Lucy found that finding solace in Wyatt’s arms was definitely a step up to the many nights she had spent alone following her rescue in 1918. 

 

At that time, she had been haunted by the memory of the soldier she had killed.  His face, as he begged her to spare his life, would appear before her, silently accusing her every time she closed her eyes.  That, coupled with the six weeks of manipulation and coercion at the hands of her mother and Rittenhouse had been enough to have her spending most of her nights staring up at the ceiling, reflecting over how her life had gone so far off track since the moment she stepped into that time machine. 

 

This time, however, she wasn’t consigned to a lonely cot in a dark and unfeeling room.  Now, every time she woke with a start after feeling the phantom rope around her neck and hearing the specter crowd jeering, Wyatt would quickly wrap his arms around her and pull her close…anchoring her back to the present.  It might have been the same bunker, it might have even been the same cot, but the entire feel of the place had changed because Wyatt, steady and sure as he was, made her feel cared for in a way that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.  When she woke the next morning, she felt safe, secure…and warm. 

 

A little too warm. 

 

Pulling away from Wyatt slightly, she couldn’t help but notice the radiant heat that seemed to surround him, even though the bunker itself was mercilessly cold.  She sat up in bed with a gasp, immediately pressing her hand to Wyatt’s forehead and found to her horror that he was absolutely burning to the touch.  “Wyatt? Wyatt?” she called to him in panic, watching him groan and complain as he awoke. 

 

Jumping out of bed and wrenching on her robe, she ran down the hall and retrieved the first aid kit from the supply closet.  Shaking him awake again once she got back, Lucy’s voice quavered as she called to him, “Wyatt.  I need to take your temperature.”

 

“What time is it?” he groaned as he looked at his watch, letting out a scoff as he read out, “Lucy, it’s 6:00 in the morning.”

 

“I don’t care, Wyatt. I think you have a fever.” She said breathlessly holding out the thermometer to him.  When Wyatt gave her a look of pure exasperation, she shook it at him and pleaded, “Just let me take your temperature…please?”    

 

Wyatt grunted in compliance and allowed her to place the thermometer under his tongue, smirking at her weakly as she did so.  She felt a little silly doing this for Wyatt of all people, but the last person she had ever taken care of when they were sick was her mother and she was dying…

 

Nope.  She wasn’t going to think about that. 

 

Wyatt wasn’t dying. He was fine.  It was just a fever.  She bit her lip as she waited for the beep of the thermometer, hoping that he had just picked up a bug somewhere…preferably not one from 1692.

 

With shaking hands, she viewed the screen and then looked up at him with alarm announcing breathlessly, “100.1” 

 

“That’s nothing to worry about Lucy.”  Wyatt assured.  “I’ve got my antibiotics, it’s probably just a little infection, that’s all.”

 

Lucy looked at him doubtfully as she put the thermometer back in the First Aid Kit. “You should have gotten more sleep last night…” she murmured. “They told you specifically that you needed to rest.” 

 

“They told us _both_ that we needed to rest.” Wyatt said with an impish grin, “but if you think I’m going to regret anything that happened last night, you’re in for a rude awakening, ma’am.” 

 

Lucy rolled her eyes at him, though she couldn’t hide the hint of a smile on her face.  Even so, she was determined to take this seriously, since it was clear that Wyatt wasn’t.  “Wyatt…with your injury, you need to be careful.  Who knows how much blood you lost…and then there’s the possibility of infection…”  

 

 

“Lucy…I feel fine.”  Wyatt assured with a heavy sigh.  He made to get up out of bed but Lucy put her hand on his arm, “Where do you think you’re going?”

 

“I’m getting up.” Wyatt answered looking at her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  

 

“No.” Lucy protested. “You need to rest…at least until your fever goes down.”

 

“Lucy…I got plenty of rest last night.” Wyatt argued. 

 

“No, Wyatt…I know these things can get out of hand if you’re not careful.  There’s no reason for you to be up and moving around when you’re sick.” Lucy nodded determinedly, “You’re not leaving this bed until you get better.”

 

“Can I go to the bathroom?” Wyatt asked incredulously.  “Or are you and Rufus going to take turns emptying my bed pan?”

 

“I obviously came by at the wrong time.”  Rufus announced from the doorway.  “Don’t mind me…you two keep talking about whatever it is you were talking about…but I vote no on bedpan duty.”

 

“Rufus!” Lucy called out, causing him to wince and make his way back into their bedroom as Lucy argued her case, “Wyatt has a fever.  Don’t _you_ think he had better stay in bed until he gets over it?  Just to be on the safe side?”

 

“Before you answer her Rufus,” Wyatt chimed in defensively, “I’d like to remind both of you that I’m not five years old.”  He shot Lucy an annoyed glance, “I’m perfectly capable of knowing what I can and cannot do.”

 

“Look, as much as I love getting in the middle of your arguments, I really have a lot of work to do today…Agent Christopher and Mason are wanting to look into the possibility of adding a fourth seat to the Lifeboat so…”

 

“What do they want to do that for?”  Wyatt demanded as he sat up in bed. 

 

“Um…I don’t know.” Rufus lied, but at Wyatt’s glare he continued, “Okay, fine…I don’t like it any more than you do, but seeing all the issues we had in Salem, Agent Christopher thinks it might be good idea if we have an extra seat…just in case.”

 

“Just in case of what?” Wyatt spat out.  “Just in case Flynn wants to go along for the ride?”

 

“I didn’t say that….” Rufus quipped as he rubbed his hand on his neck.  Wyatt shot him a dubious look which put Rufus on the defensive, “Look, even if they did decide to allow Flynn on these missions, which I’m not saying they are, but you would be there to make sure he didn’t…ya know, try to kill us.” Rufus offered, “So there’s that.”

 

Wyatt cursed under his breath as he swung his legs over the bed.  “Wyatt, get back in bed."  Lucy demanded pointedly, “You. have. a. fever.”

 

“It’s hardly a fever, Lucy.” Wyatt chided as he pulled on a shirt. “Besides, you heard Rufus…they’re thinking about letting Flynn on these missions…”

 

“I didn’t say that.” Rufus reminded him as he took a sip of coffee.

 

“...and how the hell do you think they’re going to react if I’m stuck in here in bed all day because of a tiny fever?”  Wyatt scoffed and muttered under his breath, “might as well just sign Flynn up right now to take my place.” 

 

“Wyatt…this isn’t about you trying to prove anything to them or to Flynn.” Lucy argued.  “This is about you taking care of your health.”

 

“And my health is perfectly fine, ma’am.” Wyatt said as he pulled on his shoes. 

 

“Don’t you dare call me ma’am when you’re disagreeing with me, Wyatt Logan.” Lucy hissed.  “I swear, if something happens to you…”  

 

“Lucy, I promise…the minute I feel like I’m doing too much, I’ll come straight back to bed.”

 

“Fine,” Lucy huffed out, defeated, “but at least take something for your fever.”

 

Wyatt smirked at Lucy victoriously as he took his pills from her outstretched hand.  Throwing back his medicine with a bottle of water on his nightstand, he asked, “Happy now?” Though Lucy nodded at him, he could tell from the expression on her face that she was far from happy.  Still, he had done what she had asked and even though he wasn’t mad at her for her insistence that he take better care of himself, he couldn’t help but feel a bit exasperated at what he felt was an over-reaction at something as trivial as a mild fever.  As he left the room smiling, he tossed her the now empty water bottle muttering something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like “Bossy know it all.”

 

                                                                        ****

 

On their off-days…that is, days that they weren’t jumping through time, the team would work together to improve conditions around the bunker or assist in whatever way they could to assist Mason, Rufus and Jiya on their never-ending quest to improve the functions of the LifeBoat.  The Mothership, thanks to Garcia Flynn and the nuclear core he stole, had an almost endless supply of power which, when compared to the LifeBoat, gave Rittenhouse a tremendous advantage.  Without being subjected to plug-ins in order to make their next jump, Rittenhouse could potentially leave them in their figurative dust, wreaking havoc through history unchecked while the LifeBoat sat useless until its battery was sufficiently charged. 

 

After breakfast, Wyatt had a serious conversation with Agent Christopher and Connor Mason about their plans for the fourth seat.  Upgrading the Lifeboat wasn’t just about adding a fourth seat, Mason had assured, it was about matching the Mothership as closely as they could for capacity and technology…and that required new equipment.  Wyatt, therefore, spent a lot of his day moving the new computer equipment ordered by Mason into the bunker and helping them set it up.      

 

Lucy, determined to watch Wyatt like a hawk for any sign of illness or distress, followed him around the bunker to the point of annoyance.

 

“I can see you, you know…” Wyatt huffed out at a partially hidden Lucy as he lugged a particularly large and heavy piece of equipment over to the silo.   

 

“Do you think you should be lifting something that heavy with your arm the way it is?  Lucy admonished.  “They put it in a sling yesterday for a reason, Wyatt.” Grumbling, he set down the box he was carrying, wincing as he did so.  “Aha, I knew it…you’re in pain.” Lucy pointed out.  “You need to take it easy, Wyatt.”

 

“She’s right.” Rufus nodded towards Lucy, “maybe you do need to just take it easy for a while.  You don’t have to do all of this work, Wyatt…there’s plenty of extra hands around here to help out.”

 

Knowing that “extra hands” was code for Flynn, Wyatt rolled his eyes in annoyance, “Look, I feel fine, okay?”

 

“Will you at least take your pain medicine?” Lucy pressed as she handed him his bottle of pills. “It’s been 4 hours.”

 

“My, my, my” Flynn chimed from the corner, “isn’t that something?”

 

“Isn’t _what_ something?” Wyatt spat back. 

 

“You…having your boo boos kissed by Lucy.” Flynn said with a frown of mock sympathy.  “What’s the matter, Wyatt?  I thought Delta Force was supposed to be tough?” 

 

“Shut up, Flynn” Wyatt spat out as he rolled his eyes at Lucy, “Do you see what you started?” he hissed. “I’m fine.”

 

By dinner time, however, Lucy could tell that Wyatt was far from fine.  He was sitting at the table grimacing in apparent pain, looking somewhat green, and absolutely exhausted.  Noting that he had hardly eaten anything all day, Lucy decided to take matters into her own hands. 

“Here, I made you some soup.” she announced as she placed a bowl in front of him. 

 

“No thanks, I’m not hungry.” Wyatt said weakly, grimacing as he shifted in his seat at the table. Seeing Lucy’s obvious concern, he offered her a wan smile and teased, “Now if Rufus had made the soup...”

 

“Very funny, Wyatt.” Lucy deadpanned.  “I didn’t make it…Campbell’s did.”  Wyatt bit back the urge to laugh, Lucy’s infamous troubles in the kitchen being a regular source of amusement for the team.  Lucy, however, was not laughing this time.  She sat in front of him with her arms crossed watching as finally relented and dipped a spoon into the broth.  When he brought it up to his lips, though, he swallowed hard, frowned and then placed the spoon back down in the bowl.  “I knew it.” Lucy gritted out, “You’re sick.”

 

“No…” Wyatt began to argue, but Lucy, unconvinced, pressed her hand against his forehead.

 

‘Wyatt! she exclaimed, “you’re burning up!”  Before he could protest, Lucy rushed over to the First Aid kit and pulled out the thermometer once more, handing it over to Wyatt who reluctantly took it from her.

 

Hovering over him, Lucy kept trying to sneak a peek at the screen, causing Wyatt to duck his head in an attempt to avoid her searching gaze.  When the thermometer finally beeped, Wyatt did the honors, still trying to hide the result from Lucy, but his face fell when he saw the screen, “Shit.” he breathed out. 

 

‘What?  What is it?” Lucy asked in a voice of concern as she wrenched it away from him.  One look at the screen however, had her going from concern to furious in about two seconds flat.  “103.9? Wyatt!" Lucy exclaimed angrily,  "You promised me.”

 

Wincing now in obvious pain that he had been trying all day to hide, he lifted his arm to the table, “Take off my bandages, I need to see my arm.”

 

Lucy swallowed hard, the last thing she wanted was to see that gash and the stitches piercing his skin, but Wyatt obviously couldn’t do it on his own.  Carefully, she unraveled that bandages, unrolling them over his forearm, until finally the last strip slipped away and revealed an ugly, red and swollen, scar. 

 

“Dammit.” Wyatt cursed. “Well, that explains all the pain.” He looked at Lucy sheepishly and admitted, “I’m going to need the medical team back here.” 

 

“What?  Why?” Lucy asked, terrified as Rufus gave a low whistle at the state of Wyatt’s arm. 

 

“Because I think my arm is septic.” Wyatt mumbled softly. 

 

“What was that, Wyatt? I don’t think Lucy heard you.” Rufus called out impishly. 

 

“I think it’s septic. I’m gonna need a doctor.” Wyatt admitted ruefully.

 

“Wyatt Logan” Lucy gritted out angrily, “You promised me that you would go straight to bed the minute you started feeling bad.”  Wyatt made a lame attempt to defend himself, but Lucy was having none of it, “You get right back in bed this instant.”  Looking thoroughly scolded, Wyatt slowly made his way out of the common area and back to their bedroom as Lucy replaced the thermometer with a furious shake of her head. Flynn, watching the whole proceeding, smirked as Wyatt made his way past his chair.  He had just opened his mouth to undoubtedly say something snarky, when Lucy rounded on him, “Don’t you dare say a word to him about this.  You got that?  Not one word.” And with that, Lucy left the table in search of Agent Christopher. 

 

After what felt like an eternity, the medical team arrived, confirming what Wyatt had suspected, his wound had indeed gone septic and would need a course of intravenous antibiotics. 

 

At the word “septic,” Lucy felt helpless.  It had always been a concern during her mother’s chemotherapy.  Something as simple as the common cold could send her spiraling into pneumonia and septic shock…and she knew what that meant. Wyatt, granted, was healthier than her mother had been in that timeline, but she wasn’t going to take that for granted.

 

Seeing her obvious concern, Wyatt tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but Lucy was furious with him.  “Why didn’t you listen to me?” she asked him angrily.  “I told you this could get bad.”

 

Wyatt frowned at her apologetically as he held her hand, “I’m sorry, Lucy…I’m just…”

 

“A reckless hothead?” she finished for him. 

 

“Yes.” Wyatt agreed before continuing defensively, “I’ve never let something like this get me down before…you know me, I get shot, I still fight through it.”

 

“What does it say about the state of our lives that we have to fight through injuries like this?” Lucy muttered quietly.”     

 

Wyatt didn’t know what to say about that, he was used to these kinds of injuries – a hazard of being a special forces soldier – Lucy, however was not.  “I know I shouldn’t have tried to be a hero.” Wyatt admitted ruefully, “but Lucy, I’ve had cuts like this before...it’s usually nothing to worry about.”

 

Tears sprang to Lucy’s eyes as she remembered how she had wrapped his wound in strips of her 17thcentury dress.  That dress which was probably ripe with bacteria and pathogens.  “Do you think it was because I wrapped your arm?” she asked with a gasp.

 

“Wha…” Wyatt began, but one look at Lucy’s face, full of fearful remorse, had him shaking his head at her, “Lucy, if you hadn’t wrapped my arm, I would’ve probably bled to death before we made it to the Lifeboat.”  He squeezed her hand reassuringly, “I mean it, what you did probably saved my life….this?  This is nothing.” 

 

Lucy blanched slightly as the medical team began to prep him for his IV, hating the sight of needles and Wyatt shooed her away.  Hating to leave him, but hating the sight of them redressing his wound even more, Lucy left the room and reentered the common area where Rufus sat at the table offering her a sad smile.

 

“How’s he doing?” Rufus asked as Lucy made herself some tea. 

 

“They’re saying he should be fine.” she responded with a heavy sigh.  “I just wish he would’ve listened to me.” she gritted out.

 

 “Well, he’s hard-headed and stubborn.” Rufus said with a smirk, “Just like somebody else I know.”

 

Casting Rufus a side long glance as she steeped her tea, Lucy smirked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Rufus.”

 

“Yeah, right.” Rufus quipped as shook his head, “Admit it Lucy, you both can be as stubborn as mules when you want to be.”

 

“He’s right” Flynn’s voice called from the shadows. 

 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that eavesdropping was rude, Flynn?” Lucy muttered unconcernedly as she sipped her tea. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Flynn conceded as he strode up to them, “I was just passing by and couldn’t help but overhear.”

 

“Maybe you needed to try harder, Flynn.” Rufus spat back.  “Lucy and I were having a private conversation.”

 

Flynn frowned and took in their surroundings, “In the _common_ room?  Forgive me, Rufus,” Flynn chuckled dryly, “but if you wanted a  _private_  conversation maybe you should have had it in some place a little less exposed.”

 

Rufus looked like he would very much like to tell Flynn to talk a long walk off a short pier, but was too afraid to do so.  Instead, he turned an affronted gaze to Lucy who sighed and asked, “Is there something you wanted?”

 

Flynn shrugged, “Nothing in particular…I just heard Rufus’ remark on your stubbornness and couldn’t help but agree.  Your stubbornness was a thorn in my side for quite some time, after all.”

 

Rufus let out a disbelieving snort, “Are you being serious right now?”  He chuckled as he asked Lucy, “Can you believe this guy?  He tried to decimate history and _we_ were the thorn in _his_ side.”

 

“I thought you said Lucy was stubborn?” Flynn quipped in apparent confusion, “I was just agreeing with _you_.”

 

“You know what?” Rufus said with a sigh, “I think I’m gonna go hang out with Jiya.  Night, Lucy.” Rufus offered as he began to walk off, only to pause for a moment and add sardonically, “Flynn.”

 

Lucy raised her eyebrows and sipped her tea as Flynn chuckled to himself, his arms folded across his chest, “So…” he began, “had a little trouble in Salem?”

 

“Nothing that you haven’t already heard.” Lucy quipped nonchalantly.

 

“I’m surprised that Wyatt, with all of his training didn’t just break you out of prison, so you wouldn’t have to go through the trauma of” he pointed towards her neck, “almost being hung.”

 

“He got to us as soon as he could.” Lucy defended.  “He could hardly break us out of prison with my mother and Emma hanging around – he had to lay low.”

 

“And yet…they still managed to find him.” Flynn said pointedly. 

 

Lucy glared at him over the top of her mug and said nothing.  She wasn’t sure what Flynn’s angle was with this conversation, but it was clear to her he was attempting to take a cheap shot at Wyatt.  “Yes,” Lucy finally answered with a huff, “hardly surprising when they were looking for him.”

 

“But a soldier of his training…”

 

“Look Flynn,” Lucy spat out angrily, “Wyatt did the best that he could under the circumstances…”

 

“And your…relationship with each other…you don’t think that compromised him in any way?” Flynn asked quietly.

 

“That is none of your business.” Lucy shot back, her eyes bright with anger.  Placing down her mug, she tucked her hair behind her ear and skirted past Flynn who was blocking her way out of the kitchen, “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she muttered, “I’m going back to check on Wyatt.”

 

She was halfway down the corridor when Flynn called out loudly, “I know he was lying about that knife, Lucy.”  She froze and turned to face him.  “I just think you should consider the danger your relationship could pose to the team…Rittenhouse will exploit it…and it seems” he added with a shrug, “they already have.”

 

Lucy swallowed hard as she watched Flynn smirk smugly at her and stalk away, leaving her alone in the common areas of the bunker.  She had no idea how he had figured out that Wyatt had been lying about that knife, but she didn’t want to think about it.  Flynn had touched a nerve.  Her relationship with Wyatt, new as it was, absolutely posed a risk to them…to the team. Her mother had tried to exploit it and as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that when it came to her, Wyatt’s judgement would be clouded. 

 

She returned to their room as the medical team was finishing with him, informing her that a tech would stay behind to check on him from time to time until they were sure he was completely out of danger. Knowing that there would be no way she could rest with Wyatt getting his vitals checked and IV bags changed all night, Lucy curled up in an arm chair with a book until finally, after several hours, Wyatt murmured “Go to sleep, Lucy.”

 

“I’m not tired.” she yawned back. 

 

Wyatt smirked as he peered at her through half closed eyes, “You’re not a very good liar, ma’am.”

 

“Neither are you.” Lucy chided as she knelt down on the floor next to the bed.  “Why didn’t you just admit that you were feeling awful? Lucy sighed. 

 

“I told you, because I’m a reckless hot head.” Wyatt murmured. 

 

Lucy frowned at him sardonically, “Are you sure it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Flynn is here…and you’re worried about him joining the team?” 

 

Wyatt rolled his eyes and shifted in the bed, “That’s never going to happen.  I don’t care what Christopher says.”

 

Lucy, thinking of her last conversation with Flynn, felt all the anxiety of what lay before them in terms of their relationship and Rittenhouse.  “Would it…would it be such a bad thing, though?” Lucy asked as Wyatt gaped at her.  “Rufus is right.  _If_ they do decide to let Flynn come along, he’s not replacing you…he’d be there to offer support.”   

 

“I don’t need Flynn’s help on the missions, Lucy.” Wyatt muttered. “Besides, I don’t trust him.”

 

“I know.” Lucy began, hesitating, “But Wyatt…you have to admit that on this last mission it would have been nice to have someone else there to…” Wyatt bristled as Lucy continued apologetically, “I’m not saying you didn’t do a good job…”

 

“Then what are you saying, Lucy?”  Wyatt huffed out in clear irritation.

 

“I’m saying that I don’t want what happened in Salem to happen on another mission.” Lucy tried to explain, knowing as the words left her that she hadn’t said what she meant to say. 

 

Wyatt’s eyes narrowed as he rounded on her, affronted, “You think I would…”

 

“No, Wyatt…no.” Lucy said consolingly, “I _trust_ you…but my mother...” Lucy pursed her lips in frustration, “she knows you… _care_ about me.” Wyatt’s eyes darted to Lucy’s and softened, he began to say something, but then thought better of it, so Lucy continued.  “She’s going to continue trying to manipulate one or both of us…and that…that’s a liability.”

 

“So…” Wyatt began. 

 

“So, what I’m saying is that _maybe_ having a fourth person on the team, isn’t such a bad idea.” Lucy muttered as she played with the bedsheet.  “It would at least give us someone else to keep an eye on things in case my mother tries to…”

 

“Use one of us as leverage.” Wyatt sighed as he nodded thoughtfully. “I still don’t like it…” Wyatt muttered after a few moments.

 

“I don’t either.” Lucy nodded sincerely, “but like Rufus said, you’ll be there to keep him in line. She smiled at Wyatt weakly, “Let’s just hope it takes them a while to figure out how to make that fourth seat work…at least give us a little more time to see just how much we can trust Flynn.”

 

“If we can trust him at all.” Wyatt added as he heaved a sigh. 

 

Lucy frowned.  She didn’t blame Wyatt for his hesitancy in trusting Flynn.  She knew she wasn’t the best judge of character, that she was too quick to trust, too naïve for her own good…but she meant what she said, with Wyatt with them, Flynn would be kept on a short leash.  She had no doubts about that where Wyatt was concerned.  She watched him as he drifted off to sleep only to shake himself awake, “Wyatt,” she whispered as she grinned at him, “you need to get some sleep.”

 

“Look who’s talking.” he muttered back with a smile.  “You sleep, and then I’ll sleep…I promise.”

 

“Okay.” Lucy agreed. “But first,” she added with another yawn, “you need to take your pain medicine. It won’t do us any good talking about this fourth seat if you aren’t well enough to ride in it.”

 

“Yes, ma’am” Wyatt smirked sleepily as he reached out and held Lucy’s hand.  “Good thing I have a bossy know it all keeping _me_ in line.” 

 

                                                            **** 

 

Lucy woke with a start. She was still kneeling on the floor, her head resting on the side of the bed next to Wyatt who was sleeping soundly, his hand still wrapped around hers.  It took her a few seconds to realize what had woken her, but once she had shaken the last vestiges of sleep from her muddled brain, there was no mistaking the sound of that dreaded alarm. 

 

Dreaded not just because it was the signal of another mission right on the heels of one that had been almost disastrous, but dreaded because as Lucy looked at Wyatt she knew that this was one mission they would have to risk without him.  Remembering with a slight feeling of dread what had happened the last time they had gone on a mission sans Wyatt, Lucy briefly considered shaking him awake, but one look at his bandaged arm had her resolving to let him sleep.  His health was far more important in the long run than one mission. 

 

They would be fine. She would be fine. 

 

Pressing a quick kiss to Wyatt’s forehead, Lucy slowly made her way out of the room and down the hall to where the rest of their team was already waiting, looking concerned as she emerged from the hall.

 

“There she is” Rufus sighed as he handed Lucy a cup of coffee.  “What do you know about September 17, 1934 Wallingford, Connecticut?”

 

Lucy stared back at him blankly.

 

“I told you she wouldn’t know.” Flynn drawled as he sat down with a smirk.

 

“Do _you_?” Lucy spat out as she made her way over to the computer. 

 

“No,” Flynn admitted, “but aren’t _you_ the historian?”

 

“Despite what you may think, I don’t know about every single event in any possible year in any possible place.” she breathed out as she furiously typed away.  Her eyes darted back and forth as she read through the search results, finally clicking on a possibility and announcing, “I think I’ve got it!” she called as she spun her chair around to face them, “Wallingford, Connecticut is home to Choate Rosemary Hall boarding school,” she sighed, “and where John F. Kennedy was educated in 1934.”

 

Agent Christopher raised her eyebrows, “Wait a minute…are you saying they are going after a young John F. Kennedy?

 

“Why not?” Lucy shrugged, “My mother just tried to erase Benjamin Franklin…nothing should surprise us now.” she added despondently.

 

 “I’m guessing it would be too much to hope that Wyatt is well enough to kick some Rittenhouse ass?”

 

Letting out a shuddering breath, Lucy shook her head as she quietly responded, “No…Wyatt isn’t coming.”

 

“I don’t mean to state the obvious, but without Wyatt aren’t you short…what was it you called it?” Flynn asked as he turned to Agent Christopher, “muscle?”

 

“No.  Absolutely not.” Rufus exclaimed.  “I’m sorry, but I’d rather take my chances going solo without Wyatt than getting in that time machine with you.  You may know some things about Rittenhouse but you’re still the guy who had me shot!”

 

“C’mon Rufus.” Flynn cried out in exasperation, “we’re on the same team now.  You think you and Lucy are going to be able to walk into some 1930s boarding school in white washed New England and get within arm’s reach of a Kennedy?”  He turned to Lucy for confirmation, “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but even at that time, the Kennedy’s were one of the most prominent families in America, correct?”

 

Lucy frowned and nodded her head in agreement.   She didn’t like the idea of Flynn going along any more than Rufus did, and if Wyatt had been in any position to make his feelings known, she had no doubt what he’d have to say about the suggestion.  Still, she couldn’t deny that without someone else along…someone who would more easily fit in with the…demographic of the day and age, they were going to be hard pressed to do anything but watch helplessly from the sidelines as Rittenhouse did whatever it was they were planning on doing.    

 

 “He’s got a point.” Lucy mumbled as she crossed her arms in front of her. 

 

“Lucy!” Rufus rounded on her, looking absolutely betrayed.  “What the hell do you think Wyatt would say if he knew we were going to be jumping through time with the man who tried to murder us for a year?”

 

“He’s a killer, Lucy.” Agent Christopher added with concern etched all over her face. 

 

“He’s a time traveling killer.” Lucy sighed.  “And we can’t deny the fact that when it comes to fighting Rittenhouse, Flynn has been…effective.”

 

“That may be so, but Lucy…” Agent Christopher began.

 

“I don’t like it any more than you do…” Lucy conceded, “but Flynn is right, we’re without a soldier…”

 

“Then go drag his ass out of bed!” Rufus exclaimed. 

 

Ignoring him, Lucy turned to Flynn, “I held up my end of the bargain…we got you out of prison.  I need your word that I can trust you on this.”

 

“The answer is no, Lucy. We cannot trust him.” Rufus whispered harshly.  “Don’t forget that this is the man who kidnapped you and paid H.H. Holmes to kidnap me and Wyatt.”

 

Lucy could not forget that even if she tried, but they were in a desperate circumstance…and that called for desperate measures.  “Can I trust you?” she asked with a face full of fierce determination.  Flynn gave her one solitary nod, his face reflecting a hint of gratitude to be given a chance to prove himself to his former enemies. “Okay.”

 

Rufus gaped at her looking both alarmed and shocked at her willingness to essentially entrust their safety and the success of the mission on Garcia Flynn.  Agent Christopher, though deeply concerned, seemed to understand the bigger picture, but she wasn’t about to allow Flynn free rein just because they were desperate.  She marched over to Flynn resolutely, communicating with every single step that she absolutely meant business.  “Lucy is in charge.  You will follow her lead.” she directed firmly. 

 

“Deal.” Flynn agreed with a sardonic smirk, “Now, where’s my gun?”

 

“Oh hell, no!” Rufus protested loudly, “If you want me to fly that thing, then there is no way I’m going to climb in there if he has a gun.  I kinda have a thing against getting shot in the back.”

 

“Like that’s the only way I’d be able to kill you…” Flynn quipped with an eye roll.  “How do you expect me to be the muscle if I don’t have a weapon?”

 

“You said it yourself, “Agent Christopher remarked, “you don’t need a gun to kill anybody…I imagine you’ll figure something out.  Besides, aren’t you going to a school?”

 

Flynn gave a little bow and followed an agitated Rufus into the time machine.  Lucy swallowed hard, looking down the hall, knowing that when Wyatt awoke he would be angry, hurt, upset…worried…

 

“I’ll talk to Wyatt.” Agent Christopher assured, noticing Lucy’s hesitation.  “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

 

Lucy gave her a disbelieving smirk, knowing full-well that even if he was at death’s door, Wyatt would never agree to send the team alone with Flynn…it had been hard enough to warm him up to the idea of Flynn being in the bunker and a possible 4thmember to their team.  “Thank you.” she muttered to Agent Christopher, “will you…will you be there with him when he wakes up?” 

 

Agent Christopher smiled at her fondly, “Of course.”

 

Lucy nodded and began making her way to the Lifeboat before turning around anxiously and adding, “Make sure you remind him to take his medicine…and…and don’t let him get up and wander around too much…”

 

“Lucy, I promise, I will make sure Wyatt is taken care of, the medical team will not leave here until they’re sure he’s out of harm’s way.”

 

Lucy swallowed hard, giving Agent Christopher a weak nod before climbing the stairs once more to the LifeBoat.  She was just outside the hatch when she turned around, and asked quietly, “And…and will you tell him that I’m…I’m sorry?”

 

With a look of total understanding, Agent Christopher nodded as Lucy stooped down and clambered into the time machine.  Once inside, she sat down in her chair and immediately began securing her harness, watching with some amusement, Flynn struggling with his.  “Having trouble with your seatbelt?” she asked with a quirked brow, wondering slightly if Wyatt had been as entertained with her fumbling over her straps. 

 

“I can see why this LifeBoat was a failed design.” Flynn muttered miserably as he attempted to work the buckles, his face awash in confusion, “It’s cramped, cluttered…not very impressive.”

 

“Yeah, well…it beat your ass most of the time.” Rufus mumbled defensively under his breath.

 

Flynn, however, wasn’t paying attention to Rufus.  He had just managed to secure the last buckle in his harness, “There” he breathed out victoriously, giving Lucy a satisfied smirk.  “All set.”

 

“Careful” Rufus announced with some gratification, “first time travelers tend to get a little nauseous.”  

 

“This isn’t my first trip, pal.” Flynn bit back, annoyed. 

 

Lucy scoffed, “This isn’t the Mothership.”

 

“Damn right.” Rufus agreed. “You’ll see…flying coach sucks.”

 

Flynn glanced at the long faces of Lucy and Rufus, “Oh cheer up, kids.” he observed with a smug grin, “This is going to be fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt's not going on the mission - what could go wrong???? 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update - I'm working feverishly on the next chapter, plus some other fics that I hope to get out soon. 
> 
> As always, I thank you for reading!!


	6. The Muckers

Wyatt groaned as he pulled himself out of a deep, drug-induced sleep.  Not quite ready to open his eyes, he instead found a bit of comfort in the feeling of being perfectly content.  Not with his physical situation...right now he felt as if his entire body were made of lead.  Wyatt grunted as he attempted to shift in his bed to find a more comfortable position.  There was very little he could do in the way of relief; his right arm, injured as it was, felt stiff and sore.  His left, was currently housing an IV line which made lying on his back really the only option he had.  His contentment, therefore, lay in the fact that for the first time in a long time, he felt that someone was watching out for him.  Lucy sitting vigilantly by his side all night, making sure he was taking his medicine...he couldn't remember the last time anyone had cared enough to do that.  

 

Blindly reaching out for where he had last felt her presence by his side, he couldn't help the pang of disappointment that followed when the only thing his wandering fingers discovered was the course blankets that adorned their now shared cot.  That disappointment was short-lived, however. He could hear someone shifting around the room, trying to be as quiet as possible, but failing miserably. With a smirk on his face, but his eyes still closed he murmured, “If you wanted to wake the whole bunker, all you had to do was ask, ma’am” 

 

“I don’t think that’s entirely appropriate, do you, Master Sergeant?” Agent Christopher quipped. 

 

Jerking awake at the sound of his superior’s voice, Wyatt cursed and sat straight up in bed to see Agent Christopher biting back a smirk at the mortified expression on Wyatt’s face. “I…I’m sorry, ma’…I mean, um…Agent Christopher.” Wyatt stammered out awkwardly.  “I…um…I didn’t realize…”

 

“That’s quite alright.” Agent Christopher responded with a wave of her hand, “you don’t have to explain anything to me.”  She surveyed him with a bit of concern, looking every bit like the mother Wyatt never knew.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“Better.” Wyatt answered truthfully.  “Medical team still here?”

 

“Yes.” Agent Christopher nodded, “they set up camp in in one of the storage rooms, but I imagine if all checks out today, they’ll be free to go.”  She flipped open his chart, “Your fever seems to have stabilized and it appears that the swelling in your arm has gone down considerably since they started this treatment.”

 

“That ought to make Lucy happy.” Wyatt murmured, vaguely wondering why it was Agent Christopher and not Lucy who was telling him all of this. 

 

“Speaking of Ms. Preston…I see that you and she finally decided to make things official.” Agent Christopher noted as she looked around their shared room. 

 

Wyatt, remembering what Lucy had said about Human Resources violations suddenly felt very much on the spot, half wondering if the reason Agent Christopher was in their room was to give him a reprimand.  “Well…um…” he began before narrowing his eyes and asking, “Wh…what do you mean by finally make things official?”

 

Letting out a sigh, Agent Christopher sank down in a chair by his bedside and smiled, “I mean that it’s no secret that the two of you have been…close… for quite some time, I’m just glad you finally decided to do something about it.”       

 

Wyatt gaped at her slightly, not sure how he should respond.  As far as he was aware he had kept Lucy at an arm’s length. The only one who had ever suspected anything further as far as he was aware was….”Rufus” Wyatt breathed out softly. 

 

“What was that, Master Sergeant?”

 

“Oh, nothing ma’am…” Wyatt muttered, “just, that I suppose Rufus said something to you all…about…well…you know.”

 

Agent Christopher raised her eyebrows at him and chuckled, “Actually Mr. Carlin hasn’t said a word to me about your relationship with Ms. Preston, but really Wyatt…do you honestly expect me to believe that you think I wouldn’t have put two and two together after you tried to blow torch your way out of this bunker to go look for her?” She rolled her eyes at him, “Give me a little credit.”

 

Wyatt chuckled dryly and shrugged slightly, “I…I guess I was a little obvious, yeah.”  Wyatt cleared his throat and asked seriously, “So…you’re…you’re fine with this?”

 

“Fine?” Agent Christopher asked, surprised, “Why wouldn’t I be?  You’re both two, mature adults who obviously care about each other a great deal…and this little rooming situation just won me $20 dollars from Connor.”  At Wyatt’s questioning glance she explained, “He didn’t think you two would ever…”

 

“Happen?” Wyatt asked with raised eyebrows. 

 

Agent Christopher nodded at him fondly, “Precisely.”

 

“So…”began Wyatt, “if I’m not in trouble, then…why are you here?”

 

Taking a deep breath, the Homeland Security agent stood up from her chair and walked over to Wyatt’s bedside, “Because I made a promise that I would be here when you woke up.” she declared as she checked her watch, “oh, and I believe it is time for your pain medication.”

 

Wyatt sighed, “Oh my God, she’s recruited you in all of this?”  Far from annoyed, Wyatt couldn’t help by smile at the persistence of Lucy Preston.  Never in his life had he ever had anyone fuss over him as much as she had in just the past 24 hours…not even Jessica.  The fact that she couldn’t leave his side without ensuring that someone else was there to watch over him was enough to make him feel cared for in a way he had never felt before…and he found himself suddenly missing her…even if she was bossy as hell. “Did she finally take a break?” Wyatt asked as he took his pills from Agent Christopher, “Let me guess she’s watching some trashy reality TV show with Jiya?” 

 

“No.” Agent Christopher admitted with a frown.  “She’s not here.” Wyatt’s eyes darted up to hers in confusion as she continued, “She’s in 1934…we believe Rittenhouse is going after a young John F. Kennedy”

 

Momentarily shocked by Agent Christopher's revelation, Wyatt sat gaping at her until the awful truth sunk in.  “Why the hell didn’t anyone wake me?” he snarled as he swung his legs out of bed and pulled out his IV tube.  “How do you expect Lucy and Rufus to get through this mission without someone there to protect them?”

 

“They didn’t go alone, Wyatt.” Agent Christopher sounded over him. 

 

Wyatt stared back at her, disbelief, fear, and anger etched all over his face.  “You didn’t…” he spat out angrily, “tell me you didn’t…”

 

Agent Christopher looked back at him stoically and admitted with some reluctance, “They went with Garcia Flynn.”

 

                                                                                                                     ****

 

The picturesque campus of Choate, with its red bricked buildings topped with white cupolas, stood near the center of the sleepy town on Wallingford, Connecticut.  The day, though sunny, was cool and crisp and the trees were just beginning to turn from a verdant shade of green to the fiery hues of Autumn. 

 

Hugging her “borrowed” coat around her shoulders with one hand while securing her mad cap hat with the other, Lucy walked resolutely against a sudden gust of wind, calling back over her shoulder to Flynn and Rufus, “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we get back.” 

 

Lucy, of course, had plenty of reason to be anxious to get back home to the present.  Wyatt was now probably aware of their absence and just the thought of him waking up to find the LifeBoat gone and them missing was enough to send her into an agitated fit.  The fact that Rufus and Flynn were currently at each other’s throats didn’t help calm her nerves or ease the tension now creeping its way into her neck and shoulders.

 

“I tried to tell you that flying in the LifeBoat was nothing like travelling in the Mothership, but you didn’t listen.” Rufus muttered as he jogged to keep up with Lucy. 

 

“Fine.  What do you want?  A medal?  I just didn’t think the Lifeboat was that much of a hunk of junk.” Flynn countered irritably, “You still didn’t have to laugh while I was doubled over back there.”

 

“Consider it payback for the bullet you had Al Capone lodge in my gut.” snapped Rufus, “I don’t remember you giving two shits about that.”

 

“Oh, my God, will you two just STOP?” Lucy finally spat out turning on them brusquely, “I don’t want to hear anymore arguments out of either of you.  Got it?”

 

Flynn and Rufus glowered at each other.  But said no more.

 

Standing in front of the administration building, the trio suddenly looked as if they had no idea what to do….and they didn’t.  Rufus raised his eyebrow at Lucy as he shoved his hands in his pockets, “So, what are the odds they’re gonna let us bust into one of these classrooms and take off with a young JFK?  He was probably their poster child.”

 

“Actually, he wasn’t.” Lucy said with a raised eyebrow.  “John F. Kennedy made himself a reputation at this school alright, but it wasn’t because he was a stellar student…it wasn’t even because of his family.”

 

“What did he romance all of the teachers or something?” Rufus asked glibly.

 

Lucy sighed, “No…this may surprise you, but John F. Kennedy wasn’t actually a very good student.”

 

Flynn looked around at the pristine campus, “It seems to me he would have had to have kept up decent grades to stay in a place like this.” he quipped.

 

“Generally, you would.” Lucy acknowledged with a nod, “But John F. Kennedy was…special.”

 

“Special like this kid is going to be President someday, special or special because his parents were rich ass white folks, special?” Rufus asked as he took a seat on a nearby park bench. 

 

“Yes, his family’s wealth had a lot to do with the school administration turning the other cheek, but a lot of it had to do with his older brother, Joe.  Joe was the pride and joy of the Kennedy family, he was the one they had pinned all of their hopes for success on,” Lucy scoffed as she muttered quietly, feeling the point hit a little too close to home, “as is the case with most older siblings.”

 

It was true. She had always been the academic in their small family, the one her mother had harped on day in and day out to read some book or recall some random piece of historical drivel.  For years, she had felt the pressure of living up to her mother’s expectations…always falling short, never quite living up to what her mother had deemed, “her full potential.”  Amy, meanwhile, had been wild, rambunctious, and given almost free reign by contrast.  While she adored her younger sister, she had always felt a bit envious of her freedom, of her carefree existence.  Where Lucy would have had hell to pay for missing an assignment, Amy was lightly reprimanded and dismissed as if she hadn’t mattered. 

 

Knowing what she knew now, Lucy wondered, if maybe that had been the case.  Had Amy ever mattered to her mother?

 

Yes, Lucy had had all the pressure of following in her mother's footsteps and at the time she had been jealous of Amy.  Now, however, she was just sad.  All those times she had complained that Amy was favored because she was given so much more flexibility and her crazy whims (dropping out of school to do a podcast) were hardly met with a blink of an eye from her mother...it wasn't because her mother loved Amy more...it was because she didn't.  Amy had never been a part of her mother's evil schemes...no, the responsibility of carrying on the legacy of Rittenhouse had fallen squarely on Lucy' shoulders and now more than ever, she felt the burden of it.

 

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed that her soft utterance had been heard by Garcia Flynn, who was now looking at her intently.  Leaning forward he whispered, “Yes, it can be difficult.  All that pressure to make your parents proud so that you can one day take their place in the world…”

 

Lucy turned to Flynn, who was looking at her meaningfully, when Rufus, who hadn’t heard any of Flynn’s whispered exchanged, probed, “So, wait a minute are you saying that John F. Kennedy wasn’t supposed to be President?”

 

Staring at Flynn, Lucy cleared her throat and turned to Rufus, “No…originally the family’s hope was that Joe Kennedy would rise to political fame.  He was well on his way as a student here.  He was one of the best students, popular with faculty, a star pupil and athlete.  He graduated…well, last year from _this_ present - in 1933.”

 

“So, what happened…how come we got John F. Kennedy instead of Joe Kennedy?” Rufus asked with a shrug. 

 

“He was killed in World War II.” Flynn answered before Lucy could even get a word out.  As she shot him a questioning glance, he shrugged, “I _do_ know some history, myself.”

 

Rufus looked to Lucy for confirmation of Flynn’s statement and then with narrowed eyes asked, “So, what does Joe Kennedy’s death have to do with John F. Kennedy’s becoming President?”

 

“Well, all of the family’s hopes were pinned on Joe…but when he died…well, it went to the next oldest brother.”  Lucy sighed, “The problem was, JFK wasn’t just a less than mediocre student, he was also very sickly.  In fact, the summer of 1934 he had spent at the Mayo clinic in Rochester, Minnesota.” Lucy shook her head, “He had appendicitis, boils, chronic colds…at one point they believed he had cancer…but later they discovered it was colitis. Because of that he was pulled off sports and spent most of his time in the infirmary on campus.” 

 

“Probably didn’t help those grades.” Rufus observed with a low whistle.

 

“No.” Lucy agreed. “But even that wasn’t what earned him a reputation at Choate.  Call it sibling rivalry, a bid for attention…whatever you want, but John F. Kennedy was…well, to be perfectly frank, a troublemaker.”

 

“In a place like this?” Rufus snorted, “It probably didn’t take much.  What, did he not tuck his shirt into his pants?  Go to class without his bow tie?”

 

“A lot more serious than that.” Lucy said solemnly, “He and his group of friends were called “The Muckers”. For the most part they just engaged in practical jokes, filling another student’s room with pillows, that kind of thing…but, he also used firecrackers to destroy a toilet.” 

 

Rufus laughed, “Really? Well, I guess to be fair, in a place like this, that’s a pretty high offense.”

 

Lucy nodded, “Yes, well…he’s definitely not someone who wouldn’t be caught up in some kind of mischief…so if Rittenhouse is here…”

 

“Kennedy probably wouldn’t be that hard to find.” Flynn answered knowingly.  “Speaking as a former troublemaker myself,” Rufus gaped in mocked astonishment as Flynn continued, “I spent a lot of time in detention…and if I wasn’t there, I was in the halls, causing problems.”

 

Lucy nodded, “Right, well, first things first…let’s go to the Administration office and see if we can figure out where Kennedy is supposed to be.  That will at least give us some idea of where to look.” she sighed as she gestured to the sprawling campus.  “We don’t have a weapon along,“ Lucy reminded them, “so we’ll need to be extra careful.”

 

“And what do you suggest we do, Lucy, if Rittenhouse is here?” Flynn asked in irritation.  “Without a gun, I can hardly stop them.”

 

“I thought you could kill me without the benefit of a gun?” Rufus asked, “But Rittenhouse you have a problem with?”

 

“I didn’t say that.” Flynn argued angrily, “I’m saying that my job would be a lot easier if I had a damn gun!”

 

 “No one is going to need a gun.” Lucy said firmly, “Don’t forget we’re at a school.  I don’t think even Rittenhouse would risk doing something that careless.  I mean, look at this place, it’s probably crawling with Rittenhouse teenagers...you think they would risk wiping themselves out of the timeline?”

 

“Um…Lucy, what if Kennedy is a Rittenhouse teenager?” Rufus asked with hesitation.

 

Lucy stared blankly at him, “Well…I mean, I guess he could be…I just didn’t think about it that way.”

 

“So…” Rufus muttered with a look of sheer concern towards Flynn.

 

“So,” Lucy maintained, “we make sure nothing changes.  Kennedy is supposed to be President of the United States, we know they’ve come here…we may not know why, but they’re here and our job is to find out what their plan is.”

 

As they entered the Administration building, however, they immediately hit a snag.  While Flynn and Lucy looked very much at home in the white washed halls of Choate, Rufus stuck out like a sore thumb.  Almost as soon as they stepped through the doors, they were approached by a stern looking woman with glasses who was eyeing Rufus with a mixture of apprehension and…well, disgust.  Flynn, taking note of her apparent issue, turned to Rufus and loudly instructed, “Thank you for driving us Rufus, it looks like you were right, this is the building we were looking for.” He nodded pleasantly at the woman as he called out to Rufus, “You wait by the car and Lucy and I will be out in a jiffy.”

 

Rufus did his best not to express outwardly what he was feeling towards Flynn inwardly, and so with a forced smile and a concerned look towards Lucy, he made his way out of the double doors and back onto the sidewalk outside.

 

Almost as soon as the door closed on Rufus, Flynn placed his hand on the small of Lucy’s back, causing her to noticeably flinch at such an intimate touch.  “Relax, honey.” Flynn quipped.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”  Flynn chuckled as he addressed the administration secretary, “My wife and I are considering sending our son to this school.” Lucy sucked in a breath at his cover story, but forced a smile on her face and nodded as he continued, “we were in the area and thought we might stop by and see if we can meet with one of the officials to see if Choate is the right fit.”  

 

Immediately, the scowl that had been on the face of the secretary turned into a welcoming, simpering grin, “Why, of course,” she cooed as she gestured them through the office, “it would be our pleasure Mr. and Mrs…”

 

“Lincoln.” Flynn said with a nod and a sideways glance at Lucy who was doing her best to hide her glower. led the two of them off to a richly furnished ante-room to await the headmaster. 

 

Once alone, Lucy rounded on Flynn, “What the hell was that?”

 

Flynn looked at her puzzled, “I thought you used aliases on your missions?” he asked, “I seem to remember Rufus declaring he was none other than Wesley Snipes in Arkansas…” Flynn chuckled, “why…that was in 1934 too wasn’t it? - so what was that?  Four months ago?”

 

The allusion to that particular mission sent a flush into Lucy’s cheek.  That mission that had changed her life so drastically because of a kiss in front of the notorious gangsters, Bonnie and Clyde.  To think that mission that felt like so long ago had actually only been four months in the present they were currently in, was enough to make her head spin, particularly when she considered that they were now working with Flynn instead of dodging the spray of bullets he sent their way. 

 

“I’m talking about all of that “honey” stuff you pulled back there.” Lucy gritted out angrily. 

 

Flynn shrugged, “I thought it was an appropriate cover, given the situation.  I hardly think they’d believe that we were two time travelers here to protect a future President of the United States, do you?” 

 

Lucy huffed out a breath. Of course, Flynn was right.  Acting the part of a married couple interested in sending their child to Choate was one way to get into the school without drawing too much attention to themselves, but it didn’t make her comfortable. Apart from her relationship with Wyatt, this was the man who had tried to murder her countless times, the man whom she had seen gun down others in his quest for vengeance against Rittenhouse. Which brought her to her next point, “But Lincoln?  Really?”

 

Shrugging again, Flynn remarked, “I always found the parallels between Lincoln and Kennedy fascinating.  Both served in the US House of Representatives, both were assassinated, both were succeeded by men named Johnson, Kennedy had a secretary named Lincoln, Lincoln had a secretary named Kennedy…”

 

“Actually, that’s an urban legend.  Kennedy had a secretary named Evelyn Kennedy, but Lincoln’s secretaries were John Nicholay and John Hay.”  Lucy said with an eyeroll, “but it’s nice to see you read SPAM e-mails like the rest of the world…makes you a little more relatable.”

 

Flynn chuckled, “I wasn’t relatable before?”

 

Lucy stared at him, disbelieving.  “I don’t know many people who would steal a time machine and become a mass murderer through time to avenge the deaths of their family.”  Lucy said as she pursed her lips together, “Not generally something you hear over the water cooler.”

 

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Wyatt steal a time machine to bring back _his_ wife?”

 

Lucy swallowed hard. The mention of Wyatt’s dead wife and the memory of that awful, awful night gripped at her heart like a vise. She had been heartbroken by his admittance that getting kicked off the team, going to prison, potentially being lost to the team…to Lucy, forever would be worth it if only Jessica could be alive once more.  Wyatt had told her she had nothing to worry about, and while she didn’t believe that Wyatt would actively go back and try to save her if he was happy with her, she couldn’t help but wonder, if only for a moment, what would have happened if he had been successful.  Would he have been happy?  Would he have left the team?  

No.  She couldn't do this to herself.  Not here.  Not now.  But try as she might she couldn't help but give in to that familiar feeling of panic and dread at the thought of losing him to a ghost. 

 

Keeping her eyes cast to the ground, Lucy muttered, “Wyatt didn’t kill anyone…not on purpose, anyway.” At Flynn’s derisive laugh, however, Lucy’s eyes darted to his in a flash of anger, “You gave him that name knowing it wouldn’t work.  Why?” Lucy demanded, her eyes boring into his. 

 

Flynn bit his lip and looked away.  Thinking she had won a small victory, Lucy sat back with a huff until Flynn pressed hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to upset you, Lucy.”

 

“You didn’t upset me.” Lucy lied. “You just cannot compare what Wyatt did to what you did…that’s all.”

 

Flynn frowned, “Well, I don’t know about that.  Both of us lost our wives…” Flynn said slowly,  “…and both of us would do just about anything to get them back.”

 

Lucy wanted to disagree with Flynn, wanted to tell him that Wyatt had given up on his quest to save Jessica…but she knew she couldn’t…not in good faith, anyway.  That conversation with Wyatt had been left hanging and she still wasn’t sure how Wyatt would react, if by some miraculous event, she was suddenly alive again.

 

Flynn, seeing that he had affected Lucy, pressed further, “So, maybe Wyatt and I aren’t so different, after all.” 

 

“Wyatt saved two other women with what he did.” Lucy snapped.  “You?  You erased my sister and who knows how many others because of what you have done.”  

 

Flynn bowed his head with that admonition, looking, as Lucy noted with surprise, heartily ashamed of himself.   Any further conversation between them, however, was sidelined by the arrival of the headmaster who greeted them warmly and ushered them out of the anteroom and into his main office. 

 

Lucy sat in silence as Flynn discussed the ins and outs of their phony child’s academic career and future aspirations.  Though her conversation with Flynn had her rattled, her mind was more busily engaged on trying to figure out how they would discover the whereabouts of John F. Kennedy. Forming a plan, Lucy cleared her throat and interjected, “Hmmm…I don’t know if this place is such a good fit for our boy.  I’ve heard some talk about a gang of misfits.”

 

The headmaster’s face darkened as he admitted, “The Muckers…always loitering about the portico…but I assure you, madam, their antics are harmless juvenile pranks.  Not one of them will amount to much and as far as this school is concerned, they are dealt with swiftly and appropriately.  We take the safety of our students very seriously.”

 

“I’m sure you do.” Lucy said with a smile as she quirked her brow, “But if one of your students were in danger...”

 

The headmaster’s face broke into a smile, “You have no need to worry about that here.”  He looked at Flynn knowingly, “She’s just like my wife, always anxious.”

 

Lucy ducked her head to hide the grimace on her face, as Flynn took over the conversation, “What my…ah…wife was trying to say is that we want to make sure that your campus has the proper security.”

 

“We have a fine police force in Wallingford, but I have never had the need to call upon them, you have my word.” He nodded in an attempt to assure Lucy, “This isn’t the big city.”

 

Lucy bristled slightly causing Flynn to put a hand on her arm, “Would it…ah…be possible for us to casually walkabout the campus?” Flynn asked.  “We’d like to get a feel for the place, maybe talk to a few of your students to see how they like it here?  Especially with…The Muckers…as you call them, prowling the halls?”

 

Desperate to impress, the headmaster was more than willing to oblige them, even providing a list of teachers that could assist them with any questions they might have about the demands required in their classrooms.  Lucy didn’t think their luck could get any better but as she and Flynn exited the building and reunited with Rufus, a peal of laughter drew their attention to a group of boys standing in a covered portico between two stately looking buildings. 

 

Just where the headmaster said they’d be.

 

With a meaningful look at Rufus and Flynn, Lucy began making her way briskly towards the group, and she found, as they got closer, that she was not to be disappointed.  There in the midst of a group of 12 others was none other than the future 35th President of the United States.

 

Feeling a bit dumbstruck to be just feet away from a teenage version of a man she had always admired, Lucy’s brisk walk slowed considerably as she absolutely gawked at the group before her.  He was a thin, gangly boy, fairly pale and bit sickly looking, but knowing all of the health problems he was suffering through, it was hardly surprising.  Still, despite it all, he seemed to be very popular among his friends and Lucy couldn’t help but smile at his charm.

 

Rufus, noticing Lucy’s all too obvious expression of awe, hissed at her, “Lucy, I know this is an incredible moment for you and everything…and I feel you, I do…but I feel it is my duty, as your friend, to remind you that you are a grown ass woman, and those…those are teenage boys.”

 

Startling to attention, Lucy colored a bit and rolled her eyes at Rufus “I’m sorry, okay?  It’s just…he’s right there…” Lucy breathed out in amazement, “a young John F. Kennedy…wow.”

 

Flynn raised his eyebrows and quipped, “I didn’t realize you were such a fan.”

 

“Lucy?” Rufus snorted, “Oh yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have ever seen the way she fangirls over these historical figures…ya know, since you were always trying to kill us.”

 

“Don’t act like I’m the only one, Rufus.  I seem to remember you practically drooling over Josephine Baker.” Lucy muttered with a toss of her head. 

 

“And Hedy Lamaar.” Rufus added quickly.  “But at least they were legal.” he said pointedly to Lucy.

 

Lucy looked back at Rufus affronted, “Is it a crime to be a little fascinated at seeing one of the most memorable Presidents this country has ever had as a boy in school?”

 

“Well, let’s hope he still lives to become one of the most memorable Presidents of all time,“ Flynn sneered impatiently, “if you remember we’re here to stop Rittenhouse.  Any idea on how we’re going to do that when we don’t even have a damn gun?”

 

Lucy bit her lip in thought. She hadn’t really considered the how they were going to save Kennedy…only that they needed to…that was usually Wyatt’s job.  Lucy looked around at their surroundings; a boarding school in the middle of a sleepy New England town. Even Rittenhouse, Lucy thought, wouldn’t be so cavalier as to murder a teenager as he made his way to his next class.  There would be too many witnesses…students, teachers…

 

“We could alert the faculty.” Lucy said hopefully.  “We could let them know that we have reason to believe his life is in danger.”

 

“And they’re just going to believe us, Lucy?” Rufus scoffed in disbelief.

 

“Well, if you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it.” Lucy snapped.  “I mean, what are we supposed to do?”

 

Flynn was about to answer but the approach of a teacher, caused him to pause, a look of slight apprehension flitting across his face.  Signaling the others to step back and observe, they listened as the teacher admonished the boisterous group of boys with a “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

 

“Just on our way, Mr. Greer.” came the almost unified response amid a spattering of giggles. 

 

As the boys scattered in all directions, Mr. Greer’s voice called out again, loudly, “Oh and John, may I see you for a moment?”

 

“What’d you do this time, Jack?” one of the boys asked a bewildered John F. Kennedy. 

 

“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.” he responded in his thick Bostonian accent. 

 

As Kennedy scampered off to catch up with his teacher, Lucy cast a quick look at Rufus and Flynn before setting off after them.  “Lucy, What the hell are you doing?” Rufus hissed. 

 

“I’m going to follow him.” Lucy said matter of factly. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?  To make sure nothing happens to him?”

 

“Lucy, you can’t just be following around students in a school…somebody is going to think you are…”

 

“A concerned mother.” Lucy said with a nod towards Flynn as she lifted the list the headmaster had given her, “who wants to find the best possible school for her son.  You two should go to the boy’s dormitories and see if you can find out if anything suspicious has been going on over there.  I highly doubt Rittenhouse would attack him so openly in front of classmates and teacher, but in his room?” she gave them both a meaningful look before she turned on her heel.

 

Flynn bit his lip in thought as Lucy began making her way towards the retreating figures of John F. Kennedy and Mr. Greer.  “Are you sure it’s wise, splitting up like this?” he asked finally. 

 

Lucy shrugged slightly, as she walked and turned her head to respond, “Look, I’m an academic…I know how to talk to other academics.  We’ll get much farther along if we can put the staff on alert, have them report anything they see as suspicious to the authorities.”

 

Flynn watched her walk away for a while before reluctantly turning and making his way back towards Rufus who was looking very nervous.  “I don’t like this one bit.” he admitted to Flynn.  “Lucy is right.  Why the hell would they come to a school?  There are too many witnesses.  Even if no one believed this Kennedy was going to amount to much, his family was still important…they’re taking one hell of a chance coming after him where he is literally surrounded by teachers and other students.”

 

“Unless the Rittenhouse sleeper _is_ a teacher…” Flynn muttered as he looked once more towards where Lucy had retreated. 

 

Walking briskly, Lucy made her way down the large, buttressed colonnade, the heels of her shoes echoing with every step she took.  Mr. Greer had just opened his office door to usher the young JFK inside when he stopped suddenly at the sight of her approaching figure. 

 

“May I help you, ma’am?” he asked pleasantly. 

 

Pretending to look lost, Lucy held up the list she had received from the headmaster explaining, “I was hoping to talk with a few of these teachers while my husband talks with the resident advisors.” she nodded at the retreating forms of Flynn and Rufus. “I’m afraid I am completely lost.”

 

Taking the list from her and offering her a warm smile, Mr. Greer scanned it through the glasses perched on the end of his nose and announced, “Ah, well, you’re in luck.  I’m Mr. Greer…I teach English Literature.  What can I do for you?”

 

Lucy tilted her head at the young John F. Kennedy now sitting in his office, “Oh well, I don’t want to disturb you.  I can just wait here until…”

 

“Not at all.” Mr. Greer replied kindly.  “John…our conversation can wait.  Why don’t you step outside for a while?”

 

Looking a bit relieved by his stay of execution, John F. Kennedy offered Lucy a winning smile and closed the door behind him. 

 

Hating that her plan had backfired, that Kennedy was now on the other end of the door, Lucy began to protest, “Oh no, really…I don’t mind waiting…”

 

“Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all.” Mr. Greer smiled, “I take it you have taken an interest in Choate?”

 

“Yes.” Lucy said with a nod, “Quite suddenly, it seems.”  Still determined to watch after John, Lucy made for the door once more, “Really, I should go…you’re obviously very busy…”

 

“Not at all, actually.” Mr. Greer said with a grin.  “I’m all finished with my classes this afternoon.” He nodded to the door, “I take it upon myself to watch out for Mr. Kennedy out there.  He’s a good kid, but he lives in his brother’s shadow and as a result he makes a name for himself in other ways.”

 

Quirking her brow, Lucy muttered, “I can’t imagine what that must be like for him…to never quite measure up to what your family expects of you.”

 

Mr. Greer smiled broadly at her, “Family is family.  You can’t escape it even if you try.”  He sighed as he leaned casually on his desk, “No, it’s the other students I worry about with John.  He has his gang of friends to be sure, but he’s plagued by nicknames and teasings...”

 

“Mr. Greer,” Lucy cut in abruptly, “it’s clear to me that you have an interest in…that student’s well-being, have you…noticed anybody unusual?  Maybe someone lurking around asking questions?”

 

“You mean besides you?” Mr. Greer said pointedly. 

 

Lucy chuckled nervously, “Well, not exactly what I meant, no…but..”

 

“I wouldn’t worry yourself too much over Mr. Kennedy.  He’s not expected to get very far.”

 

“So, I’ve heard.” Lucy answered mechanically, noting the change in Mr. Greer’s demeanor.  Making her way to the door once more, Lucy called out, “I…I really should be going…”

 

 “What’s the rush?” Mr. Greer said silkily.  “I thought we were having a pleasant conversation…Ms. Preston.”

 

 At the sound of her name being uttered by a man who most definitely should not have known her name, Lucy froze.  Her hand gripped the door knob tighter as Mr. Greer cooly pulled out a gun from inside of his suit coat and aimed it at her.  “I think you and I have an awful lot to talk about, don’t you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so now we are definitely in new territory! The timeline is definitely diverging now. While it would have been nice and heck of a lot easier to leave things as is and just make a timeline with happy Lyatt (and no RH trash in the bunker) I wanted to weave in canon with new ideas. I'm a glutton for punishment, what can I say? 
> 
> As for the background on Kennedy - that's all true...as most of you, I'm sure know. He was actually called "Ratface" in school and most of the teachers believed he would not amount to much though the students voted him most likely to succeed. Though he spent most of his time in and out of the hospital, his charisma definitely made up for it. 
> 
> A special thanks to Stina for helping me come up with some dialogue for this one. Writers Block is a real thing, guys. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and please, if you are so inclined, leave a review.


	7. Back to Square One

Wyatt was pissed. 

 

He had spent the whole of the morning impatiently pacing in his room.  Anytime the medical team advised him to sit so that they could take his vitals, he did so begrudgingly, fuming that he was being fussed over when Lucy and Rufus were at the mercy of Garcia Flynn. 

 

“Wyatt,” Agent Christopher admonished, “Relax.  I didn’t send him there with a gun.”

 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Wyatt spat back.  “How the hell are they supposed to go up against those Rittenhouse assholes without some kind of weapon?”

 

“Would you have rather I sent Flynn armed?” Agent Christopher asked pointedly.

 

“No.” Wyatt said without hesitation, “I would have rather someone would have woken me up to go along. You know I don’t trust Flynn worth a damn,” Agent Christopher nodded, “so then why the hell would you send him off with my team?  With Lucy?”

 

“Lucy is the one who argued for his placement on the team.” Agent Christopher replied firmly.  Wyatt stared back at her his face etched in hurt from such a betrayal, “You were hardly in any position to be of use, Wyatt. Lucy made a decision and as much as I didn’t want to agree with her, she had a point.  Flynn _has_ been effective in taking out Rittenhouse and for whatever reason, he seems to…at least, respect Lucy.”  

 

Wyatt scoffed, but he couldn’t deny that Agent Christopher was right on that last point.  The last thing he had wanted to do in 1954 was leave her alone with Garcia Flynn, but Lucy had shown so much bravery on that mission, he could hardly deny her this one last request.  He could have ended Flynn then, as he stood alone, in the catacombs of that building, ready to blow it all to hell; but Lucy had stepped in front of his gun, pleading for Flynn to take a different path, that didn’t involve mass murder.  Sure, she had personal reasons for not wanting Flynn to blow up that building, seeing that her family would be among the victims, but it was more than that. Lucy had always seen something else in Flynn that none of the rest of them could see. 

 

She could see the humanitarian he once was…and Flynn, it seems, was grateful for that. 

 

They all had read his classified file.  Hell, Wyatt had even listened (while chained to a chair) as Flynn recounted the horrifying murders of his wife and daughter at the hands of Rittenhouse.  It had affected Wyatt then more than he had let on. As someone who had lost his wife to murder, he understood the anger and the pain that Flynn was feeling…and hell, hadn’t he also stolen a time machine to try to right some wrongs? 

 

Still, Wyatt knew that he was not like Flynn in that he was not about to go killing innocent people in an attempt to go save Jessica.  Yes, his desperate attempt to save her resulted in Joel’s death, but that had been a terrible accident, one that Wyatt regretted to this day.  Flynn, by contrast, had killed Lincoln, kidnapped Lucy, had Rufus shot, and left them stranded in 1754.  His desperation knew no bounds.  Flynn would as soon murder each and every one of them, Lucy included, if it meant having his wife and child back and while Wyatt could sympathize with the pain of losing someone he loved, he knew that no matter how much he wanted to save Jessica there would be some lines he absolutely would not cross.   

 

Besides, he had moved on. 

 

In the years after Jessica’s murder, he had merely existed.  Filled with unimaginable guilt over his wife’s death, he had stopped caring. Any and every mission that was too risky or too dangerous for anyone else, he volunteered for.  With no one still alive who cared if he lived or died and nothing to really live for, why wouldn’t he have been the first to sign up? Risking his life, which was empty and lonely, gave him an outlet for the rage and anger he felt towards Jessica’s murderer.  It wasn’t like he was too fond of himself, either.  Filled with self-loathing, he figured it more than served him right to be pinned down in some hell hole protecting others since he wasn’t there to protect Jessica.  What his superiors saw as bravery, was actually nothing more than reckless abandon…and it had earned him quite the reputation. 

 

A reputation that put him on the direct path of one Lucy Preston.

 

Anxious, insecure, and a little too concerned with following the rules, Wyatt had never believed he would feel anything towards the historian but mild annoyance.  She was pretty, there was no doubt about that…but they butted heads more than once on that first mission and he was almost convinced that she would be the last woman on Earth he could ever fall for. 

 

Almost. 

 

He couldn’t quite pin down when annoyance gave way to affection…but if his sudden distaste for Ian Fleming had anything to say for it, he’d venture a guess it was somewhere in between Nazi Germany and coming back to find her objectified in a grotesque almost laughable filmed version of the actual mission entitled, _Weapon of Choice._   Never one to say no to a James Bond film, Wyatt had eagerly procured a copy the minute they had gotten back from that mission only to find himself a bit disillusioned by the man who had once been his favorite author.  Not only did he take liberties with the mission itself, making James Bond a bigger hero than he actually was, Ian Fleming had done quite a number on Lucy Preston.  Instead of the brilliant historian Wyatt knew, the one who had saved their necks (Ian Fleming’s included) via the priest holes, Lucy was reduced to nothing more than an empty-headed secretary who had unwittingly intercepted a message that put her life in danger.  To add insult to injury, her character jumped at the chance to tumble into bed with Bond not once, but twice after their daring mission delivering to Bond a line Wyatt recognized as his own.  _I agree with him, but I trust you._ The “him” referred to in that plagiarized line was of course, Wyatt, the American agent whose sole purpose in the film seemed only to serve as a romantic rival for that second-rate Lucy’s affections. 

 

The whole thing had made Wyatt sick.

 

He hadn’t meant to fall for Lucy Preston, but before he even knew what was happening, he had.  He had been taken off guard by his outrage towards Mr. Ian Fleming both on the mission and afterwards, but it wasn’t until the Alamo…when she literally saved him…that the walls he had put up around his heart came tumbling down.  Hers was the face he sought out on every mission, her opinion was the one that mattered most, her touch, her gaze, even the smell of her faint perfume was enough to send his heart racing. He also trusted Lucy implicitly.  It wasn’t just because of her historical knowledge, she had an almost uncanny ability to assess the situations they found themselves in and almost never steered them wrong. 

 

But this?  Wyatt could not for the life of him understand how Lucy could have left on a mission with Flynn of all people and not tell him.    

 

As if reading Wyatt’s thoughts, Agent Christopher argued, “Wyatt, Lucy knew you would be upset by this…she asked me to tell you how sorry she was…but as hard as it is to admit, I believe that Lucy made the right call here.”

 

Wyatt shook his head, “No. The right call would not have put Lucy and Rufus at risk like that.  We don’t know if we can trust Flynn.” Wyatt contended passionately, “we just busted his ass out of prison and he’s done nothing to prove to us that we have any reason to believe he actually wants to help us.”

 

“I know how you must feel, Wyatt.” Agent Christopher said quietly.  “But look at it this way…Flynn hates Rittenhouse probably more than any of us. We may not agree with his methods or his tactics, but the one thing we can be sure of is that we share a common enemy.”

 

Yeah…that at least was something.

 

Yet as Wyatt considered that point, he remembered the mission to 1780.  Flynn had begged for their help, promised them that it was just a matter of playing a role so they could take out David Rittenhouse.  So, against his better judgement, he agreed to that shaky alliance…hell, he had all but convinced Lucy to go along with the plan when he knew she wasn’t fully onboard with it.  What began as a plot to take out the Rittenhouse founder, turned into a literal bloodbath.  By the end of the night, not only was David Rittenhouse dead, but so were Benedict Arnold and Lord Cornwallis.  Two people, Lucy had reminded them angrily, that weren’t supposed to die.  Yet Flynn, still wasn’t satisfied.  No.  It wasn’t just David Rittenhouse Flynn wanted to kill, it was also his young son, John…a child…and when Lucy protested, Flynn kidnapped her. 

 

Common enemy his ass. Wyatt knew that if Flynn saw the slightest chance at getting his family back he would take it, alliance be damned. His past actions spoke for themselves. How could he trust the man who had made a deal with the devil in the White City, himself to sideline Wyatt and Rufus.  Hell, more than sideline…if Lucy hadn’t found them when she did, they would’ve been dead. H.H. Holmes had been paid to hold them hostage and Lucy, despite saving them, had almost been killed herself by that crazy sonofabitch…and it was all thanks to the desperation of Garcia Flynn.

 

The hours ticked by and Wyatt grew more and more agitated, pacing the bunker like a caged animal. He wasn’t alone in his concern. Jiya was nervously biting her nails and checking her watch almost to the point of obsession.  Wyatt wanted to say something to comfort her, but as he was too angry with the circumstances, he felt it best to keep his mouth shut.  It would be no good to spew off his concerns about the situation…it would only make the mood in the bunker that much more dismal.   

 

After what felt like a damned eternity, a change in the atmosphere, a buzzing in the air, and a roar of wind announced the return of the LifeBoat.  Racing towards the time machine, even as the outer rings still spun, Wyatt waited with bated breath as the hatch door slid open.

 

Flynn emerged first. His face was battered and bruised and his suit was ripped in at least three places from what Wyatt could see.  With one apologetic look around at the alarmed and confused faces staring back at him, Flynn announced, “We…uh…had a little trouble.”

 

Far from easing Wyatt’s mind, those words sent a stab of panic and dread through his heart.  Rufus emerged next, looking considerably less battered, but nonetheless shaken.  “That’s the understatement of the year” he muttered as he crawled out of the hatch, not quite able to meet Wyatt’s eye. 

 

It didn’t take Wyatt very long to figure out just why that was.  He stood there, in full expectation to see Lucy’s smiling face appear from the open hatch, but as the seconds passed it became painfully obvious that she wouldn’t emerge and he knew then that his fears had been justified, though he didn’t want to believe it. 

 

“Rufus,” Wyatt breathed out in a voice of forced calm, “where is Lucy?”

 

“Well…that’s the thing, Wyatt…” Rufus began apologetically, “there wasn’t a lot we could do.  We split up…see…and well…”

 

“Well, what?” Wyatt interrupted angrily. 

 

“Lucy got captured by a Rittenhouse sleeper and they took off with her, okay?” Flynn blurted out in frustration. 

 

It was not okay. 

 

With a growl of fury, Wyatt lunged at Flynn.  He hardly knew what he was doing, so blinded he was by his rage.  “You sonofabitch!” Wyatt gritted out between punches, “you let those assholes take off with her?”

 

Hardly one to cower under such provocation, Flynn gave as good as he got trading blows with the Delta Force soldier…until Rufus stepped between them.  “Whoa…whoa, whoa…..” Rufus urged as he held up his hands, “I can’t believe I’m saying this Wyatt, because believe me, I would pay to see you kick Flynn’s ass…but it wasn’t his fault.”

 

Breathing heavily and glowering at each other, Flynn and Wyatt stood apart as Agent Christopher blurted out, “Can somebody please let us know what the hell happened?”

 

Rolling his eyes and sighing heavily, Flynn began, “Lucy had it in her head that it would be a smart idea to tail John F. Kennedy.  She asked Rufus and I to go see if we could find anybody suspicious at the dormitories.” Rufus nodded in agreement. “But before we got there, I noticed that Kennedy was coming out of the office he had gone in, but Lucy…well she was nowhere to be seen.”

 

“And that’s when the fun began.” Rufus muttered. 

 

“We were then ambushed by three Rittenhouse agents.” Flynn explained before adding angrily, “And since I didn’t have a damn gun, there wasn’t a lot I could do.”  he gave a meaningful glare to Agent Christopher before continuing, “I managed to fight off one of them and steal his gun while Rufus took off with Kennedy.”

 

“Yeah, we didn’t think that through very well…a black man running off with some screaming rich ass white boy?”  Rufus shook his head as he murmured, “Three Rittenhouse agents are firing their weapons on some posh school grounds, but the police came after the black man.”

 

“As I said…we had a little trouble.” Flynn said with a sigh. 

 

“So, you had trouble…it still doesn’t tell us where the hell Lucy is.” Wyatt spat out angrily.  “If you knew she was with a damn sleeper, then why the hell didn’t you go after her?” 

 

“I tried!” Flynn argued back, “By the time I took care of the other two, Lucy was already gone…along with that damn sleeper.”

 

Wyatt cursed and kicked at a nearby chair.  He wanted to beat the shit out of Flynn, but Rufus was right, it wasn’t fault.  No one trusted Flynn to have a gun and so they were already at a tactical disadvantage.  Add in the fact that they had not only separated, but were essentially pinned down with no means to protect themselves and it was a damn miracle that any of them made it back. 

 

But it also meant that Lucy was once again in Rittenhouse hands. 

 

He knew she would never have gone along willingly, hell, she had chosen to be hung rather than go home with her mother, but this time would be different.  After six weeks under their thumb, Lucy had played the part of dutiful daughter and Rittenhouse sycophant to excess, killing an innocent man to prove her “loyalty.”  Now, however, they knew she couldn’t be trusted and Wyatt was willing to bet that they wouldn’t make the mistake of sending her on a mission again.

 

No, this time they would break her…or they would kill her. 

 

That thought caused Wyatt’s knees to give out as he collapsed into a nearby chair, his head gripped in his hands.  What could he do?  They spent six weeks trying to find their damn hideout and came up empty handed time and time again.  He had almost gone insane that time…now, he was sure he would.      

 

Agent Christopher eyed Wyatt with concern, but ever the no-nonsense Federal agent, she asked in a voice of measured calm, “And Kennedy?”

 

Oh yeah, Kennedy…the whole reason for that mission. 

 

“Safe.” Rufus answered solemnly, “You know, I know we aren’t supposed to change history, but I think this experience might actually turn him into a better student.  He’s being monitored 24/7 by the administration staff.” Rufus quirked his lip, “kinda hard to spend your days blowing up toilet seats when you’ve got those stuffed suits at the boarding school breathing down your neck.” 

 

Rufus’ feeble attempt at levity did nothing to make Wyatt feel any better about the situation. Lucy was as good as dead and he knew it. The one thing he admired Lucy for more than anything was her moral fiber and unwavering sense of right.  Rufus had chided her when it was discovered that her real father was Rittenhouse, Flynn, he was told, mocked her when it was revealed that her mother was also part of that crazy cult…but Wyatt had no doubts as to who Lucy really was.  Being a product of a world class sonofabitch didn’t make Wyatt one, just like Lucy was nothing like those Rittenhouse dicks. 

 

She would never sell herself to that insane ideology.  She may have idolized her mother at one time, but seeing the ugly reality of her true character, Lucy had been disgusted…heartbroken, yes…but her eyes had been opened that day.  As Wyatt sat across from as she weakly contended that her mother would never allow her to be killed, he knew that she was lying to herself and he called her on it. 

 

 _Are you sure about that?_ he had asked then, already knowing the answer. 

 

No.  Of course she wasn’t sure.  Her mother had stood by while Emma had a gun pointed at her only daughter’s head…more annoyed that Lucy had incited Emma’s wrath than distraught that her own flesh and blood was being threatened by her underling’s gun.  It was pretty obvious then that Carol Preston’s main objective was Rittenhouse and not her daughter’s safety and well-being.  The Salem mission had just confirmed it. 

 

Join Rittenhouse or die.  That was the choice they were giving Lucy…and Wyatt wouldn’t be there to protect her this time.  He knew she would never give in…and while he had to commend her for her bravery, the thought of losing her was unthinkable.    

      

Six years ago, he thought his world had ended when he lost Jessica.  That night had been the worst of his life.   To know that his stupid, jealous outburst had led to her being brutally murdered had only made losing her all the more painful.  He never thought he could find happiness again, but after meeting Lucy…after _kissing_ Lucy…

 

His whole world changed that night…and Lucy still didn’t know how much.  And now, with her back in Rittenhouse hands, he wasn’t sure if she ever would.  God, how he wished he would have just told her everything.  Rufus was right, he was a damn fool. 

 

“So, what are we going to do?” Jiya’s voice broke the silence that had fallen over the bunker. “We can’t leave her with them…I mean, her mother just tried to have her hung, didn’t she?”

 

Agent Christopher sighed, “I’m afraid there’s not much we can do apart from sending out a search team…”

 

“Yeah, and that worked out perfectly last time, didn’t it?” Wyatt scoffed. 

 

“Do you have a better idea, Master Sergeant?” Agent Christopher asked sharply, “Because I’m open to suggestions.  You may not believe this, but we all want to see Lucy back safely.”

 

Wyatt stood up, his eyes flashing angrily, but his voice cool as steel, “Yeah, you were so concerned with her safety you agreed to send her on a mission with no protection.” Unable to control the emotion in his voice, Wyatt spat out, “You let her go with Flynn…you didn’t even tell me she was leaving.” 

 

“Wyatt,” Agent Christopher said calmly, “you knowing wouldn’t have changed the outcome of this mission.  Lucy made this choice, she chose to take this risk…”

 

Wyatt didn’t wait for her to finish.  His raw emotions getting the better of him, he turned on his heel and stalked down the hall until he found himself standing in the doorway of the room he shared with Lucy. Far from offering him any sort of comfort, the room…and everything in it was a grim reminder that she was gone. Unable to stand the sight any longer, he made his way to Rufus’ room only to be faced with the memories of Lucy’s first night in the bunker; the comforting hug he had offered as she cried over her disillusionment of her mother, the promise he had made her that no matter how much she had believed she had lost, she had not lost him. 

 

The echo of those words seemed to hang in the stillness of the room before him, mocking him.   They had combed all of San Francisco and the surrounding area looking for her last time and came up empty handed.  It was sheer luck that the LifeBoat came back online when it did to tell them the Mothership had jumped to St. Miheil and even more of a miracle that Lucy was along for that mission.

 

 Now, however, the situation seemed hopeless.  She had been snatched out of 1934 without so much as a hint to where they would have taken her.  Was she still there?  Waiting to be rescued?  Did they take her to some other point in time?  Was she back in the present answering for her disloyalty?  Agitated, Wyatt turned to make his way back down the hall, unable to stand the sight of the empty bedroom anymore, when he ran into Rufus. 

 

“Hey…man.  I was…um…looking for you.” Rufus muttered softly. “I’m really sorry about Lucy…if we had known that guy was Rittenhouse we never would have…”

 

Wyatt shook his head, “I can’t be mad at you….and as much as I’d love to blame Flynn, it’s not his fault either.”  He fell against the wall his face etched in agony, “Even if you knew that jackass was Rittenhouse, what could you have done?  You should have never been allowed to go on a mission unprotected like that.”

 

“Well, that’s my fault.” Rufus admitted ruefully.  “I didn’t trust Flynn enough to travel back in time with him armed.”

 

Wyatt gave him a small smirk, “I can’t blame you for that either.”

 

“I know you don’t trust Flynn, Wyatt…and believe me, I’m not exactly the President of his fan club but, he really did come through on this mission.”  He bit his lip in thought before continuing, “Despite everything he did to us last year, I think he really does feel bad about what happened to Lucy… if he would have been able to get to that gun sooner…”

 

“Yeah.” Wyatt breathed out. His heart felt so heavy that his legs seemed to give way under the weight.  He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, his head cradled in his hands.  If he had just listened to Lucy that first day, maybe he would have been able to go on that mission.  Maybe she wouldn’t have been forced to go with Flynn, maybe those Rittenhouse assholes wouldn’t have taken off with her...

 

Wyatt sighed.  It had been an ambush, Flynn had said.  Lucy had gone off unwittingly with the sleeper and he and Rufus had been pinned down while three Rittenhouse agents sent an array of bullets towards them and the young would-be President.  At least if Wyatt had been there, they would have had a damn gun….

 

The gun…

 

Wyatt’s head shot up, “Rufus,” he breathed out, “the gun Flynn took from the Rittenhouse agent…does he still have it?”

 

“Well…yeah…I guess…” Rufus stammered out with a look of confusion on his face.  “Why?”

 

Before Rufus’ question had fully escaped his lips, Wyatt had sprung to his feet and raced down the hall towards a glowering Flynn who was having the cuts and bruises on his face tended to by a tense looking Jiya.  “The gun.” Wyatt demanded, “where is it?”

 

“What are you afraid I’m going to shoot you?” Flynn asked with a huff.  “As much as I’d love to do that, it’s probably not wise, seeing as how we’re already one team member short.”

 

At Flynn’s apathetic mention of Lucy’s kidnapping, Wyatt wanted to issue Flynn a whole new set of bruises to go along with the ones he had received in 1934.  One stern look from Agent Christopher, however, made him reconsider a second round of brawling.  “Where the hell is the damn gun you took from the Rittenhouse agent?” Wyatt gritted out angrily. 

 

Offering him a sardonic glare, Flynn heaved out a sigh and handed over the gun he had stashed away in his suit coat, “You know, I saved Rufus’ life with that thing.  That should count for something.”

 

But Wyatt wasn’t paying attention to him.  Gun in hand, he marched over to Agent Christopher and Connor Mason, “Can we trace this?” Wyatt breathed out hopefully, “Find out where it’s registered?”

 

“I don’t see why not.” Agent Christopher replied with a look to Mason.  “But Wyatt…the chance of that gun being linked to wherever they took Lucy…”

 

“It’s better than searching without any leads at all.” Wyatt spat back in frustration.  He ran his hand roughly over his face, “Look, last time we had nothing to go on.  This? This gives us something.  If we have even the slightest chance at finding her we need to take it.” 

 

“And we will.” Agent Christopher said reassuringly, “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.” Wyatt made to argue with her, but she silenced him with a raised hand, “I promise, we’re going to do everything we can to find her.”

 

 

                                                                          ****

 

The Mothership hatch opened to the large expanse of the Rittenhouse compound.  Nothing had changed in the few months since Lucy had last been held prisoner here, save the grotesque mural now donning the far wall. There was little time to reminisce, however, as a gun to her ribs and a curt word from Emma had Lucy stumbling down the stairs towards her waiting mother and a man she recognized as the soldier they had saved in World War I.

 

Carol Preston let out a visible sigh of relief as Lucy approached, until she finally raced forward and wrapped her daughter in a tight embrace, whispering “I was so worried about you.”

 

“Really mom?” Lucy quipped angrily as she wrenched herself out of her mother’s arms, “That is what you have to say to me after what you put me through in Salem?”

 

Carol shook her head at Lucy and offered a look of incredulous pity, “Lucy…” she breathed out, “I told you, I was only trying to protect you…to help you.”  Those people are not your family.  They don’t care about you the way we do.”

 

Lucy stared back at her mother in disbelief and disgust, “I’m pretty sure they would never have sent me to be hung.” Lucy maintained as Emma smirked at her. 

 

“If you would have just listened, you would have never been put in that position.” Carol lectured.

 

“If I would have just left Wyatt and Rufus to die, you mean?” Lucy sneered. “Well, you know what, mom? I’m not like you.  I don’t believe that some people are expendable just because they don’t fit in with your insane plan for world domination.”

 

 “Don’t you see?  It’s so much more than that.  This isn’t about world domination, it’s about creating a better future…for everyone.” Carol said defensively. 

 

“It’s true.” Nicholas Keynes piped up as he extended his hand, “I believe we haven’t been properly introduced.”

 

Lucy stared back at him coldly as Carol shook her head in self-reproach, “I’m sorry…you’re right, of course.  Lucy,” Carol sighed as she made the introduction, “this is Nicholas Keynes…your great grandfather.”

 

Nicholas offered Lucy a stern gaze as he grasped her hand, “You have been hampering our efforts.” he said in a matter of fact tone.  Lucy stared back at him determinedly as he continued, “I’ve told your mother something had to be done about you.”

 

Lucy swallowed hard and offered her mother a side long glance.  Nicholas didn’t frighten her, but she wondered what new hell they had in store for her, the last time she had been brought to this facility had been bad enough.

 

Carol, catching Lucy’s uneasiness, intervened on her daughter’s behalf.  “Lucy…Is just misguided.”

 

“She had the opportunity to join us, but she refused.” Emma scoffed before turning to Carol in frustration, “You should have let me kill her in 1918 before we lost good men.”

 

“Kill her?” Nicholas responded immediately, “I think that would be a waste of good, strong, Rittenhouse blood, don’t you, Lucy?”  She refused to respond and instead looked stoically forward as Nicholas studied her thoughtfully.  “Do you realize that you are the last direct descendant of David Rittenhouse, himself?”

 

“That’s not nothing to be proud of.” Lucy spat out.  “I’ve already told my mother, I met the man…he was insane.”

 

“What some call insanity, others call genius” Nicholas said quietly.  He bit his lip in thought before pointing to the mural, “Do you know what that is?”

 

Taking a few steps forward to better see the large painting, Lucy looked at her mother with confusion before answering Nicholas with a shrug, “It’s a mural…looks like a map.”

 

“Don’t call it that.” Nicholas spat out, annoyed as he stood proudly before the painting.  “A map is for explorers.  That isn’t who we are.  It doesn’t do us justice.”

 

“And what, exactly, are you?”  Lucy asked in disgust. 

 

“What we are,” said Nicholas passionately, “is artists.  Time is our canvas and this,” he said pointedly as he motioned to the Mothership, “is our brush.” 

   

“You’re just as insane as he was.” Lucy gritted out.  “That isn’t some toy,” Lucy cried out passionately as she pointed to the time machine, “these are people’s lives you are messing with.”

 

“What we’re doing is taking the best of human culture and subtracting and sloughing away the worst.” He paced in front of her with a mad glint in his eye as he continued, “Shaping, cutting away at the rock that is the human race until it resembles something like Michelangelo’s _David_.

 

“And when does it end?” Lucy sobbed as angry tears sprang to her eyes, “When will you be satisfied wiping away centuries worth of history for your own goals?”

 

Nicholas smiled at her simply and whispered, “Until we reach perfection everlasting.”

 

The ominous way in which he uttered those final two words turned Lucy’s blood ice cold.  She stared back him, astonished at his arrogance and ashamed that his blood ran through her veins.  Too stunned to speak for a few moments, she looked towards her mother, anxious to see any semblance of the woman she once knew…a woman who had shared her love of history with her, a woman whom she had respected and admired all of her life. 

 

But she wasn’t there. 

 

“How can you do this?” Lucy breathed out in a shaky voice.  “How can you decimate history like this?  It may not be perfect, but it’s ours.  It’s who we are.”  Lucy walked over to her mother, desperate now to reach the woman she idolized, “Mom, you can’t be okay with this…you’re going to destroy the world.”

 

“No, Lucy.” Nicholas answered.  “we few will save it.”  

 

With a nod towards Emma, Nicholas turned back to Lucy and gave her a slight bow as the red headed henchman gripped onto Lucy’s arm and pulled her away.  “C’mon Princess, it’s past your bedtime.”

 

As they watched Lucy being carted away to one of the rooms, Nicholas muttered to Carol, “Are you sure we can trust her?  I think Emma is right, she’s too big of a liability for us.”

 

“She’s your great granddaughter.” Carol said firmly.  “My daughter. Rittenhouse is in Lucy’s blood. Rittenhouse is about family.  It’s about legacy.  Something Emma will never understand.”

 

“Will Lucy ever understand it?” Nicholas asked. 

 

“She will.” her mother sighed heavily.  “She wasn’t ready for the 1918 mission, I pushed her too hard too soon.”  She pursed her lip in thought, her faced etched in slight regret, “But I wanted her there…to be there when we brought you back with us.  When we saved you.” She nodded at Nicholas before continuing, “There’s so much she doesn’t know about her family, about this great legacy she has…and once she’s learned, I have no doubt she’ll be ready.  She only needs time.”

 

“And what if time is not on our side?” Nicholas asked.  “Her friends still pose a danger to us.  As long as they have the other time machine…”

 

“You don’t have to worry about them.” Carol said firmly.  “With Lucy here, and away from them and off the missions, we are at an advantage.  They’re blind without her.”

 

Nicholas hummed in thought, “They found her just fine in 1918…I’d hardly call that blind.  Perhaps you are the one who is blind?”  Nicholas asked cunningly, “I don’t hold it against you…you’re only a mother.”

 

Carol bristled visibly before rounding on Nicholas, “I know my daughter.  She will come around.  Once she realizes that they aren’t coming for her.”

 

“And how can we assure ourselves that they won’t?”

 

“Let’s just call it, Plan B.” Carol said simply. 


	8. Leverage

_Until we reach perfection everlasting._

 

Nicholas Keynes’ words reverberated in Lucy’s troubled mind as she lay on the crude camp bed in a room that amounted to little more than a closet.  There was one small window situated along the top of the wall that served as her only source of light.  The small light that it offered was hardly cheering, but it did allow her to have some sense of what time of day it was.  She judged by the orange dusky hue that now filled her cramped space, that evening was falling. 

 

She wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been since she had been taken from 1934.  She knew that several days had passed at the very least and wondered with a pang of sadness and regret how Wyatt was doing.  She wondered if he had gotten over his illness and how his arm was healing.  She wondered if Agent Christopher was there, like she promised she would be, when he woke up to find them gone.  She knew he was probably angry…at her, at Flynn…maybe even at Rufus, for sneaking away on that mission without telling him…and she wondered if he ever would forgive her.   

 

The last time Lucy had been brought (unwillingly) to the Rittenhouse compound, she was given every imaginable comfort. As Carol Preston’s daughter and, as she discovered, the last of the direct line of David Rittenhouse himself, she was treated in a such a way as to befit her position…whatever that was.  All she knew from the few conversations she had had with her mother in that time was that she was “born for this.”  Her mother’s pointed interest in her education in history and anthropology had been less about a shared passion and more about molding her daughter into her successor in the family “business.”

 

That revelation had been one of the most painful. 

 

She had spent a majority of that time of her six weeks looking back over her life.  While the mother of her timeline had made a few different choices, the one constant, as she compared what she knew to what was being revealed to her in this timeline, was what she now recognized as the way she had been groomed her entire life.  From the books she was brought up on, to the courses she was pressured to take in school, Lucy saw her mother’s hand in every aspect of her upbringing. Rittenhouse, she now understood, had always been there…waiting in the shadows until her time to take up her mother’s mantel had come. 

 

Garcia Flynn had told her on that first mission that she had been chosen for a reason.  She had to admit, at the time, she had no idea why the government would call on her, an untenured, untested, young professor to lead something as important as these missions.  After her connection to Rittenhouse became clear, however, she now understood that her father had suggested her placement on the team, not because of her abilities but because it was her “birthright.”  Following in her mother’s footsteps wasn’t just about Stanford…it was about all of this.  This plan, this scheme to alter the course of the future by manipulating the events of the past. 

 

Lucy sighed as she turned on the small bed in her cell.  Unlike last time, she was provided no books to read, no newspaper to peruse…she was left only to her thoughts and they were straying to another Rittenhouse protégé who had been groomed and molded to take over the family business. 

 

 _My father says that peasants are like the hands of a clock.  Around and around they go._   John _Rittenhouse_ had said in 1780. _A peasant is no more capable of choosing his own path than the hands of a clock._ And who chose that path for them?  _The Clockmakers, of course,_ he had said.  Control exercised from the shadows to the give the illusion of choice and freedom…that was what Rittenhouse was truly about.  No matter how many times she was lectured that theirs was a benevolent and necessary cause, she only saw the ugly, hidden hand of tyranny.

 

For hundreds of years, her family and their band of faithful followers had placed themselves in key positions throughout Government and society, manipulating decisions, empowering others who shared their views, and enriching themselves while the “peasants” unwittingly followed the path that was chosen for them.  There were moments where Rittenhouse didn’t always win, of course, but that could be rectified now, with the time machine…and if Nicholas’ words from a few nights ago were to be believed, that was exactly what Rittenhouse was planning to do; right the wrongs they had been dealt by going back and ensuring that the “correct and established” path was followed to ensure a “better and more perfect future.” 

 

Lucy had already seen this at play in her own life. 

 

She had wanted to give up school and join a band, even though she knew her mother would never agree. The accident that had nearly ended her life had set her back on the course her mother had set for her…and Lucy half wondered if it had been designed…intended.  After hearing from Rufus how her father had somehow manipulated his car and threatened his life and the lives of his family, she couldn’t help but think that perhaps Rittenhouse had planned for her car to end up in that river.

 

And after everything she had seen in the past year, she really wouldn’t be surprised if they had.

 

But that wasn’t the only life altering circumstance in Lucy’s life.   In the timeline Lucy knew, her mother was dying of lung cancer.  With mere weeks left to live, Carol Preston was hanging on by a thread when Homeland Security knocked on the door of her home and ushered Lucy away.  The saving of the Hindenburg had reset her mother’s future, had saved the lives of nearly everyone on board.  As a result, Henry Wallace never married Carol, she never got addicted to cigarettes and Amy, of course, was never born. 

 

All thanks to Garcia Flynn and that journal…

 

Huh. 

 

What was it her mother had said when she told her she was Rittenhouse?  That they would never allow Lucy to go back and save Amy.  Carol Preston was too important.  So how coincidental was it that the very first mission to which Lucy was sent resulted in the erasure of her sister and the healing of her mother? 

 

Not that Lucy believed for one second that Garcia Flynn was Rittenhouse…but it did offer her pause…what had Wyatt said when they had gone to Salem?  _That man would make a deal with the Devil himself…_

 

No.  Surely not.  They had murdered his family and besides, he had told Lucy he had gotten it from her…

 

If Flynn was following the missions set forth in her journal, then why would she have erased her own sister?  What could she have possibly wanted to change in her future that would result in the erasure of one of the most important people in her life?  And if she had indeed, given that journal to Flynn in an effort to change the future, then was she really any better than Nicholas or her mother?

 

The sound of a key in the lock of her door jolted her out of her thoughts and caused her to sit upright on the bed, scooting back to the furthest corner of her cot to keep as much distance between her and whoever it was that was coming through her door. 

 

Light flooded into her room as the door swung open, causing her to squint and groan from the sudden change in brightness.  A silhouetted figure was all she could see, therefore, standing in her doorway though the voice which called out to her was all too familiar.  “I brought you your dinner.” Carol Preston said as she set down a small tray on Lucy’s nightstand. 

 

“Great.” Lucy muttered mechanically.  “Do I get my bathroom break now too?  Or, have you brought me a bucket for one of these corners?”

 

“Lucy,” her mother admonished, “it’s your unwillingness to be reasonable that has you in this position.”

 

“Oh yes, of course.” Lucy breathed out in exasperation, “this is all my fault.”  Lucy scoffed, “You’re right.  I should have had a better attitude when I found out you had lied to me all of my life.” 

 

“I didn’t want to burden you with the responsibility of all of this until you were ready.” Carol argued impatiently. 

 

“When would I have ever been ready for this, mom?” Lucy breathed out incredulously.  “I mean, you’re playing God.  You think that because something didn’t happen the way you wanted it to, you can back and change it without thinking of what that means for anybody else?”

 

“You’re not looking at the bigger picture…”

 

“No. _You’re_ not thinking about the bigger picture.” Lucy spat out angrily.  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to come home to a new reality?” She sobbed quietly, before adding, “I do.”

 

Carol shook her head in sympathy and folded her arms, “This is about your sister, isn’t it?  Amy?”

 

Lucy flinched at the cold way in which her mother uttered her sister’s name.  Of course, she would have no memory of her other daughter, so to expect her to have any semblance of maternal affection to a name was foolish on Lucy’s part.  Still, she wanted her mother to know, “She was your daughter.” Lucy breathed out in a shaky voice.  “And you loved her…and I know you don’t remember her…and you probably don’t even care, but I do.”  Lucy’s tear filled eyes met her mother’s as she continued, “That’s why I will never help you do this.  I will never stop fighting against you…you can’t just erase history, memories, people…you just can’t.”

 

Carol pursed her lips together and sighed heavily, “Lucy, those people would be none the wiser. History would change and they would have no idea.  Just like it did with me.”

 

Lucy gaped at her, hardly knowing how to respond to such carelessness on her mother’s part.  To not even care about the ripple effects for the mere fact that no one would really remember, made her sick.  “That shouldn’t matter.  You of all people…you taught me to love and respect history…I just don’t understand how you could be okay with this.”

 

“Because sometimes Lucy,” Carol Preston quipped, “We could do better.”

 

“How do you know?” Lucy contended.  “How do you know that changing history would make anything better?  You could make it worse.”

 

“Don’t you have any regrets? Anything you’d like to change in your own life?” Carol asked pointedly.  Lucy refused to answer and tucked her head down as her mother continued, “What about your friends?  Do they have any regrets?” 

 

Lucy shrugged her shoulders and lied, “I don’t know.”

 

“Oh, I think you do.” Carol said silkily as she sat down on the cot and patted Lucy’s hand.  “I overheard that night, you know?  When he had come to tell you he was stealing the time machine to get his wife back?” Lucy swallowed hard as her mother continued, “You were very brave, to let him go…knowing that you might never see him again. You could…what was it you called it? Wake up to a new reality and find that the two of you had never even met.  Why would you have?  A mission like this is hardly the place for a happily married man.”

 

Lucy tried to fight the tears that were pooling to the surface of her eyes, but one by one, they spilled silently onto her cheeks, betraying her heart despite her best efforts to conceal it. 

 

“We could do it, you know?” Carol Preston said after a few moments of observing her daughter, “Bring her back, make him happy…and neither of you would remember a thing.”  Lucy clenched her eyes shut willing herself to stop crying, not to fall for this manipulative game her mother was playing, but she had hit her where she was most vulnerable and Carol Preston knew it. “You wouldn’t have to live with the heartache of losing him, Lucy…unless, of course, you refuse to cooperate.”

 

Lucy sucked in a breath and stared at her mother, “Wh…what do you mean?” she stammered out in apprehension, though she knew exactly what Carol Preston meant.  Flynn had warned her.  Rittenhouse would exploit her feelings for Wyatt and yes…they had attempted to do it in Salem…but this?  This was all too much.  This was more than exploitation, this was just cruel.   

 

“I mean, we could do this the easy way, Lucy…or we could do it the hard way.”  She shook her head and stood up, her slim frame silhouetted against the door once more as she warned, “If you continue to make things difficult for us, we will make things difficult for you.”  Carol Preston gave Lucy a meaningful glare and added, “And I don’t think you want that, do you?”

 

“No.” Lucy answered mechanically as more tears fell. 

 

“Good.” her mother said simply as she made her way out of the door.  “Now, eat your dinner before it gets cold.” she instructed before pulling the door closed and securing it once more with a key. 

 

                                                                        ****         

 

It had been one week.

 

One hundred and seventy-two hours, thirty-four minutes and seventeen seconds since Wyatt had discovered that Rittenhouse had taken off with Lucy.

 

It had been one week since Agent Christopher had promised to trace the gun Garcia Flynn had brought back from 1934…and still they had nothing. 

 

Well, maybe they did…but Wyatt hadn’t been told a thing about it. 

 

It wasn’t from lack of trying; nearly every second that Agent Christopher passed in the bunker was spent fielding Wyatt’s endless questions about where they were with the investigation and how the search was going. 

 

“Not today, Master Sergeant.” Is all she would respond and now, Wyatt was more than impatient.  He had hardly slept since Lucy had been taken, his nerves were absolutely on edge and though nearly everyone had given him a pretty wide berth (remembering how Wyatt had been the last time Lucy had gone missing) Flynn had somehow missed the memo. 

 

“Why don’t you just relax?” Flynn breathed out in exasperation one morning after Wyatt had been pacing the hall waiting for Agent Christopher to arrive.  “You’re making everybody nervous.”

 

Wyatt stilled and issued an icy death glare towards Flynn while Rufus and Jiya stopped cooking breakfast and looked nervously between the two men.  Though Wyatt had repeatedly told the others he did not blame Flynn for Lucy’s abduction, Flynn’s attitude towards the entire ordeal had made Wyatt see red.  When not working on upgrading the LifeBoat, Mason, Rufus and Jiya would assist Wyatt in poring over maps and writing down the addresses of any warehouse in and around San Francisco large enough to house something like the Mothership. Flynn, however, merely sat in his chair, carefree…reading. Whenever he was called out for his lack of concern, Flynn would merely roll his eyes and continue on with his book.    

 

That is, until today. 

 

Flynn’s admonition to Wyatt seemed to hang in the air filling the room with an undeniable tension.  For a long while, neither man spoke; only staring each other down with absolute disdain written all over their faces.

 

“You think I can relax?” Wyatt finally spat out in anger.  “Lucy could be anywhere right now, going through God knows what and you think I can relax?”

 

Flynn rolled his eyes, “If they wanted to kill her they could have done it in 1934.  She’ll be fine.” he scoffed.  “Lucy’s a lot tougher than you give her credit for.” 

 

“And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Wyatt accused bitterly.  “Seeing as how you got a first-hand look at how damn tough she is when _you_ kidnapped her.”  Wyatt seethed with anger, every muscle in his body was tense as he made his way over towards Flynn’s chair, “You know that she was almost burned alive in a damn furnace because of you and that deal you made with H.H. Holmes?

 

Flynn chuckled darkly as he tossed his book to the side and stood up, looking every bit as menacing as he had that night in 1780, “We’re on the same side now.” he gritted out, “I only kidnapped her because she got in my way.  And you can hardly blame me for her getting mixed up with H.H. Holmes.  I only paid him to sideline you…and Rufus.”

 

Jiya raised her eyebrows and turned back to the stove, while Rufus shook his head and muttered, “Wrong answer” as Wyatt clenched his fists and made a move towards Flynn. 

 

Flynn, however, was saved the ass-kicking of a lifetime when Mason’s slurred voice called out from the other side of the common room, breaking the tension in the air like a whip crack.   “Life is but a walking shadow.  A poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.”

 

Everyone turned to see Connor Mason stumbling his way towards them, a near empty bottle of brandy in his hand.  “Um…are you drunk?” Rufus asked, his eyebrows raised in a mixture of amusement and concern.  As Connor Mason sidled past the tables and chairs and over to the counter, the unmistakable stench of alcohol wafting from him answered that question.  Sloppily grabbing another tumbler, Mason giggled slightly as Rufus muttered to Jiya, “That would be a “yes.”  Connor,” Rufus called out in a voice of concern as Mason, tumbler procured, made his way over to the couch, “it’s like 8:30 in the morning…don’t you think it’s a little early to…”

 

“Icarus Descending!” Mason cried out loudly, interrupting Rufus as he held up a newspaper, “The Fall and Catastrophe of Connor Mason.”

 

Giving one quick look of concern to the others, Rufus made his way over to the couch, where Mason had retreated with his bottle, tumbler and where he was currently burrowing himself under a coarse blanket.  Wrenching the newspaper away from Mason as he poured himself a drink, Rufus’ eyes scanned the article in question, “Yikes.  Why are you reading this?” Rufus asked as he watched Mason spill a good portion of his drink on the coffee table before steadying his hand and pouring the amber liquid into his glass. 

 

“Because today, Rufus, is the day that I officially lose control of Mason Industries and all of my financial holdings.  Today, Connor Mason is officially a nobody.” He offered Rufus a sardonic grin as he lifted his now filled tumbler in the air, “A toast, to oblivion!”

 

Mason threw back his glass of alcohol in one deft move, causing Rufus to look over to Wyatt and Jiya with alarm.  Flynn, had since busied himself with a book and was no longer paying any attention to the goings on in the bunker. 

 

Wyatt, momentarily forgetting his own concerns, was about to make his way over to Mason to offer some kind of support when the bunker door swung open and Agent Christopher came marching in.  “Wyatt,” she barked out as she made her way down the hall, “I need to speak to you.”

 

At her words, Wyatt didn’t know whether to be relieved or fearful of whatever it was she had to say. Though her expression was unreadable, her voice spoke of an urgency that sent his heart racing.  Feeling as if he had completely lost all ability to use his legs, Wyatt stood there stupidly gaping at her for several moments before the sound of an alarm pulled him back to his senses. 

 

Cursing the timing of Rittenhouse, he looked with pleading eyes to Agent Christopher who merely sighed and muttered as she walked past him, “Let’s deal with this first.” 

 

“No.” Wyatt argued as he pointed towards the Lifeboat, “We’re not going to be able to do a damn thing without Lucy…if you have information on her, I need to know what it is. Please.”

 

Ignoring him, Agent Christopher called out to Rufus, “What do we have?”

 

Rufus cast an apologetic look towards Wyatt and raced up to view the monitor “Um…November 23, 1936. San Antonio, Texas.”  Rufus answered as he turned away from the screen, “Anybody got any ideas?”

 

They all stood apart, staring blankly at each other, until Wyatt, frustrated beyond all belief spat out, “No…because the person who would know isn’t here.”

 

But Agent Christopher held up her hand to Wyatt and turned to Flynn, “Did you ever pick up any Rittenhouse intel about this?” she asked. 

 

Flynn closed his book thoughtfully and sighed, “Never heard a thing about San Antonio in the 1930s.”

 

“Well if you’re not here to provide intelligence than what the hell are you good for?” Wyatt snapped angrily.   

 

“There’s the Texas Centennial Exposition” Rufus called out as he looked up from his laptop screen. “Um…six million people attended…ooh including President Roosevelt.”

 

“Okay,” Agent Christopher sighed, “well, that sounds like a…”

 

“Nevermind.” Rufus interrupted, “That was in Dallas…which is nowhere near San Antonio.”

 

“It’s got to be the Gunter Hotel” Mason’s muffled voice sounded from underneath his blanket, “It’s quite obvious.”

 

“Um…how is it obvious, exactly?” asked Rufus. 

 

“Because in the Gunter Hotel on November 23, 1936, Robert Johnson and Don Law changed the world.”

 

“Who the hell are Robert Johnson and Don Law?” Wyatt asked incredulously.

 

“King of the Delta Blues, Father of Rock n Roll?”  Mason asked in astonishment as he sat up and let the covers fall away from his prone body. “You people are philistines!”  Everyone in the bunker stared and shrugged at Mason as he continued passionately, “Look, without Robert Johnson, there’d be no modern blues…which means, no Elvis, Beatles, Stones, Zepplin, none of them.”

 

“Which is bad, no doubt” Rufus agreed with a shrug, “No one wants to listen to Pat Boone on the radio 24/7…but I think I’m missing the larger geopolitical point here.”

 

“Don’t you see?” said Mason as he swung his legs off the couch, “It wouldn’t just be Rittenhouse killing rock n roll at its source.  It would be them killing the cultural revolution of the 1960s.”

 

“All of that because two dudes don’t record an album?” Rufus asked doubtfully.

 

“Actually, it makes a lot of sense.” Jiya quipped.  “Remember _Pirate Radio_ , Rufus?  It was all about how the government tried to stop rock n roll because of the dangerous message it was sending.”

 

“Precisely.” hiccupped Mason proudly as he lifted the tumbler to his lips once more.

 

“Alright, then.” Agent Christopher said with a sigh, “Gear up and get ready.  Connor you’re taking this one in place of Lucy.  Wyatt, you’re staying here.”

 

At that directive, the room was full of confused murmurs, until Mason’s voice rang out loud and clear above the din, “Absolutely not!”

 

“Connor,” Agent Christopher scoffed, “you clearly know more about this Robert Johnson and his albums than any of them.”

 

“Yes, and I will be happy to fill them all in as they get the LifeBoat ready.” Mason countered.

 

“Don’t mind Connor,” Rufus teased as he rolled the stairs in front of the Lifeboat, “He’s just never time traveled before.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Flynn quipped, “Are you telling me that in all the test runs you made for this machine, you never once time travelled yourself?”

 

“Of course not!” Mason exclaimed, “It’s bloody dangerous!”

 

“Connor, you’re going.” Agent Christopher directed before turning to Jiya and ordering, “Get him some coffee.”  She sighed as she opened the weapons locker and handed Flynn a firearm, “Against my better judgement, I’m trusting you with this.  Do NOT make me regret that decision.  You bring them back safely, understand?”

 

Flynn gave her a wry smile and a wink as he took the gun from her, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

Mason looked around helplessly as Jiya handed him a cup of coffee.  “I suppose I don’t get a say in the matter, do I?  It’s only my bloody time machine.” he muttered angrily.

 

“You’ll be fine.” Flynn quipped as he slapped Mason on the back, offering him a teasing grin, “you’ll be with me.”

 

“Oh yes, that’s very reassuring.” Mason sighed as Rufus pulled him up the stairs.

 

‘Well, as much as I hate to give him credit for anything…he did save my ass last time.” Rufus assured, “and this time…he has a gun.”  Mason looked like that didn’t offer him the slightest bit of relief, but he begrudgingly entered the LifeBoat behind Flynn, leaving Rufus standing alone on the staircase. He turned and gave a concerned and confused looking Wyatt a solemn nod, before entering the time machine himself and closing the hatch. 

 

“Okay,” Wyatt breathed out as the LifeBoat disappeared, “what the hell is going on?’

 

“We have a possible location.” Agent Christopher muttered as she opened a folder and handed a memo to Wyatt. “The gun was traced back to this warehouse near Oakland, right off the Bay Bridge.”  Wyatt eagerly took the memo as she continued, “I have no reason to believe they are keeping Lucy there, however, our preliminary reconnaissance makes us believe it is just a storage facility.”

 

“What do you need me to do?” Wyatt asked solemnly.

 

“I want you to lead a team, you’re going to raid that warehouse.”  She nodded at him, “You’ll have a helmet cam, Jiya and I will have eyes on you from here.  Wyatt,” she added in a voice of warning, “this is just an intelligence gathering mission, not an assault.  You get in, get what’s there and get out.” 

 

“But what if…”

 

“Wyatt, we’ve been monitoring this facility for a week now, there has been nothing to suggest that this place is anything but a storage depot for them.”  She shook her head, “But perhaps something in there will put us on the right track to getting Lucy back.”

 

He nodded and made his way down the hall, his anticipation high.  After nothing for seven whole days, they finally had a lead…and he was going to be able to do something about it.  He was so grateful that Agent Christopher allowed him to stay behind to take this mission…but really, what choice did she have?  Flynn?  Hell no. Sending him on missions was one thing, having him actually raid Rittenhouse when he had shown zero restraint with them in the past?  Even if this was just a warehouse, Wyatt had no doubt in his mind that if Flynn had been selected for this particular mission, he would probably burn the whole damn thing to the ground.     

 

Wyatt entered his room, sighing at the empty sight of Lucy’s side of the bed.  Even though Agent Christopher had stated that the likelihood of finding Lucy there was small, he nevertheless held out a small bit of hope that they would find her. 

 

Grabbing the bit of gear that he had in his room, he made his way back out to the common area where he was met by another agent, standing by to drive him to the warehouse.  Jiya and Agent Christopher assisted him as he donned his riot gear with both of them wishing him a good luck before he made his way out the door.

 

A tense hour and a half passed in the bunker, Jiya nervously kept checking the connection to Wyatt’s feed, before finally his voice crackled into the nearly empty bunker, “Am I coming in clear?”

 

“We’re reading you loud and clear, Master Sergeant.” Agent Christopher returned as Jiya attempted to make connection with his head cam.  “Just trying to connect to your camera now.”

 

“This place looks pretty dead.” Wyatt’s hushed voice called out.  “We’re approaching the perimeter now.”   

 

For a few tense moments, they heard nothing.  Still unable to capture the feed from his head camera, Jiya frantically typed into her laptop trying to establish the connection when the sound of gunfire erupted through the near empty bunker. 

 

Panic stole over Jiya’s features as she stared up in horror at Agent Christopher who, by contrast, was looking tense, but calm.  “Wyatt? Wyatt, what’s happening?”  The silence that followed was deafening and did nothing to quell Jiya’s nerves. ‘Wyatt?” Agent Christopher tried again, “Do you copy?  What’s the situation?  Wyatt?”

 

Jiya and Agent Christopher breathed out a collective sigh of relief when Wyatt’s voice crackled to life, “Yeah, I’m here.”

 

“What happened?” the Homeland Security officer demanded.  “Are you okay? We don’t have a visual.”

 

“A lot better than this dick.” Wyatt responded gruffly, his voice racked with disappointment. “There’s nothing here, it’s an empty warehouse.”  The muffled sound of movement followed this statement as Wyatt’s voice called out, “Checking to see if he has anything on him.”  Agent Christopher and Jiya exchanged hopeful looks when Wyatt announced finally, “I found a key fob.”

 

“Wyatt, is there a serial number on it?” Agent Christopher asked. 

 

“Yeah, TS PROX D02 531279.” he recited.  “Can you hack it?”

 

Jiya, already at her computer, was typing furiously.  “Um…issued by AICS Securities.” Her eyes darted back and forth on the screen before she added, “It’s a high-frequency access fob to a priority client.”

 

“Do we have an address? A name?  An individual?” Wyatt’s desperate voice called out. 

 

“No.” Jiya responded as Wyatt breathed out a curse.  “There’s a pretty advanced firewall.” she explained, “but give me a few hours and maybe I can crack it.  

 

                                                                                                                         ****

 

Lucy sat at a desk in what was deemed a library in the Rittenhouse compound, her fingers nervously drumming on the table.  In front of her, spread open in a large leather bound notebook was a handwritten manifesto, authored by none other than her great grandfather, Nicholas Keynes. 

 

He was the soldier they had fought so desperately to save in World War I.  The one she had murdered an innocent man for…his friend.  Lucy half-wondered if Nicholas cared at all about the loss of his comrade in arms.  That man had cared enough to try to find help for Nicholas, had worried himself over their efforts to save him and yet he, himself, wasn’t deemed important enough to save. 

 

Lucy wondered if he knew about Nicholas’s radical ideas of world domination, or if he, like so many others in Rittenhouse’s path was just an expendable pawn in their game. Expendable only because he had gotten in the way of Rittenhouse’s plans.  Lucy looked up from the faded writing with a gasp, suddenly realizing that the man she had killed might have been meant to survive that battle, maybe even the war.  Lucy tugged at her locket mindlessly, pondering over the family he might have had, the family that very well may not exist anymore…all thanks to her and one fateful pull of the trigger.

 

She sat back and rubbed her eyes, attempting to wipe his pleading face from her mind.  Dwelling on those dark thoughts would not do. Tumbling into a depressed state would only make her more vulnerable, more pliable in the hands of Rittenhouse. They would use her emotions against her. 

 

Not that they hadn’t already. 

 

She cast a furtive glance across the room where Emma was chatting quietly with her mother.  The bit of sky she could see from the shuttered window, was dark indicating that she had been in that room already for several hours.  Emma had only just arrived a few moments before.   

 

The Mothership had been taken out, of that much, Lucy was aware.  She could hear snippets of their conversation as they discussed their optimism that this mission to 1936 would not fail.  “If the first sleeper didn’t handle the job,” Emma had whispered, “the second most certainly would.”  From what Lucy could gather, the second sleeper was well entrenched, a trusted assistant, one that no one who suspect.  She had no idea what the mission entailed or even where it was, but her heart sank as she thought of Wyatt.  Would he expect to find her on the mission only to be disappointed? Would they make it through the mission alright without her?  What if Flynn went along in her place? Would the two of them put aside their differences to work together?

 

“Lucy!” her mother’s reprimanding voice called her out of her thoughts.

 

She shook her head slightly, before meeting her mother’s studious gaze, “I’m sorry, I was just…um…thinking.”

 

Carol made her way over to Lucy’s desk, a reproving look on her face.  “You’ve hardly read anything.” she tutted at her as she pulled the notebook towards her. 

 

Lucy cast a glance back towards Emma who was standing just behind her mother, shaking her head as if Lucy’s reluctance to comply was hardly surprising.  “I’ve got a headache.” Lucy complained with a huff. 

 

Carol turned and looked towards Emma, “Would you get her some Tylenol?”

 

Emma dropped her arms and rolled her eyes, “Fine, but before I go does the princess need anything else?”

 

“Well, now that you mention it” Lucy quipped, “I would love to get the hell out of here.”

 

“You’re not a prisoner, Lucy.” her mother sighed.  “This is your home.”

 

“Really?” Lucy asked, “Because it sure doesn’t feel like home, mom.”  She motioned around the room, “I’m required to sit in here and read this…this propaganda for hours every day.  I have scheduled times to go to the bathroom, I can’t go anywhere in here without supervision, and when I am alone, I’m locked away like some…criminal.”

 

Carol straightened herself up and nodded at Emma who left the room to procure some Tylenol.  When she pulled the door closed behind her, Carol whispered harshly to Lucy, “You know as well as I do that your actions are what prompted all of this.” Carol hissed.  “If you would just make an actual effort, show Nicholas that you’re serious…”

 

Lucy let out a derisive laugh as tears sprang to her eyes, “You know that’s not why I’m doing this.”

 

“You think I enjoy holding that over your head?  You think I want to see you hurt?” Carol asked harshly as she threw her hands up in the air and gave an exasperated sigh, “Your stubbornness is what made things harder for you.  I gave you plenty of opportunity to accept your legacy and move on, but you….” Carol bit her lip and shook her head, making her way to the door as she did so, “I’m going to go get you some dinner. By the time I get back, I want to see that you’ve made some progress.”  She made a meaningful nod towards the open notebook and slammed the door behind her.  

 

Angry tears issued forth the moment her mother left the room.  It was one thing to be held here against her will, quite another to have the threat of Wyatt’s dead wife hanging over her, being used as leverage against her and her every move. 

 

The last time had been easier.  Much easier. She had been in Rittenhouse custody for only a few days when her mother had brought her that newspaper indicating that Mason Industries had been destroyed, and everyone she had known in her time there had been killed in the explosion.  Agent Christopher, Mason, Jiya, Rufus…and Wyatt.

 

It had nearly destroyed her.

 

To be on the threshold of possibilities with Wyatt only to have it all ripped away?  He was the one person she trusted more than anyone else, the one person she knew she could depend on, the one person who made who made her feel like she was stronger than she actually was.  She felt lost, alone, scared…but it gave her a determination to end Rittenhouse like nothing else had.  She would do it.  She would destroy the Mothership, even if it meant that she would be stuck in the past indefinitely; even if it meant it would cost her her own life. 

 

It didn’t matter anymore. 

 

What had she to come back to?  A mother she didn’t know?  A life where she was forced to follow the teachings of some sick and twisted cult because it was her “birthright?”  Everything and everyone she cared about was gone…and so there was only one way she was going to escape it.

 

But then, there he was. 

 

Six weeks.  Six long weeks of hopelessness had been washed away with one breathless statement. 

 

_You’re alive._

 

The unparalleled joy she felt at seeing Wyatt again, nearly made her forget that she was grasping a hand grenade, that she was essentially on a suicide mission.  It was only when Wyatt had asked for some explanation that she had remembered that there was no plan to return.  Her mission was supposed to end there. 

 

But it didn’t. 

 

And now she wondered whether it should have. 

 

She was sure that the pain she felt at losing Wyatt then would be nothing to the pain she would feel losing him now.  If she did not cooperate, if she did not comply with every request, she knew it would be nothing for her to be dragged into that time machine and forced to sit by while Jessica was somehow restored to him. 

 

He wouldn’t remember Lucy and what they had, but she would remember every excruciating detail of their short time together.  To not just lose him, but to lose _him_ was enough to keep her dutifully obeying every ridiculous request her mother and great-grandfather set forth.  He was her Achilles’ heel and they were exploiting that knowledge with a cruelty that even now, knowing all the horrible things they had done, surprised her.     

 

With that threat hanging over her head, Lucy wiped the last remnants of her tears away and went back to her reading, wondering when Emma might show up with her Tylenol, as the pounding in her head only seemed to be worse now after her crying. 

 

She rubbed her temples in an attempt to soothe the aching in her head as she hovered over the manuscript. The narrow, loopy writing did nothing to ease the strain in her eyes as they darted over the same line repeatedly. It was no use.  She couldn’t concentrate.  Her head hurt too much and her emotions were far too raw.  Maybe she could….

 

BAM!!!

 

The door behind her flung open violently, causing her to jump out of her chair in shock and surprise. Standing before her was not Emma, not her mother, not even Nicholas, but a man, clad all in black, fitted with a helmet, and a very large gun…that was initially aimed right at her.  Terrified, she backed away into a corner, until a familiar voice called out, “Lucy!?”   Wyatt lowered his gun and was at her side the next moment.  His eyes scanned over her as he asked tensely, “Are you hurt?  Did they hurt you?”

 

Physically, she was fine. Emotionally…well, that was something else entirely. 

 

She shook her head in response, her words trapped somewhere in the throat.  Wyatt, always astute in his observations, seemed to understand. He reached out with his free arm as he breathed out with a heavy sigh, “Come on, let’s you get you the hell out of here.”

 

Lucy made to take his hand and then stopped, remembering with a pang her mother’s awful threat. Going with Wyatt would most certainly fall into the non-compliance category of things and she knew what that meant.  They would punish her in the cruelest way…and it wouldn’t matter if she wasn’t with them...they could do it at any time and it would still be devastating.  She could wake up tomorrow morning and not remember him. They could go on a mission and find themselves in the awful position of explaining to a newly alive Jessica how theirs was not “really an affair.”   It didn’t matter what the scenario, the result would always be the same.

 

She would lose him.     

 

“Lucy?” Wyatt asked in a voice raked with desperate concern.  “Come on…let’s go.”

 

Taking a look at his outstretched hand and hearing his pleading voice, everything within her wanted nothing more than to grasp onto Wyatt and never let him go.  It was therefore, a betrayal of every fiber of her being when she pulled back her hand suddenly and backed herself further into the corner, shaking her head as tears spilled onto her cheeks. 

 

“Lucy, what’s wrong with you?  Come on…let’s go!” Wyatt pleaded again.

 

I can’t.” Lucy sobbed in a shaky voice.  “Please…just go.”

 

Wyatt stared back at her too dumbfounded to speak.  He wasn’t sure what the hell they had done to Lucy, but he would be damned if he was going to walk away and leave her.  His mind raced over all the possibilities that could be keeping her here, “Lucy,” he asked desperately, “what…are you wired?  Chipped? At each question, Lucy shook her head frantically, motioning him away from her, until Wyatt finally grabbed her by the hand and began pulling her away from the wall, “Lucy, I don’t know what the hell is going on but we need to get you away from here.”

 

They had just gotten to the door leading out into the large launch area when Lucy angrily wrenched her arm away and gritted out, “No!  No, Wyatt!” 

 

“Oh, come on you two, don’t fight.” Emma’s voice rang out from beside them.

 

With lightening quick reflexes, Wyatt shielded Lucy as he turned and aimed his weapon at Emma, who was already within striking distance.  Gripping his rifle with both hands, Emma wrenched it away from her and kicked Wyatt in the chest, sending him careening into the open door.  Lucy backed herself slightly into the room again in an attempt to stay out of the crosshairs of the fight as Wyatt dove for Emma, the two of them trading kicks and blows.

 

Emma had pulled a large knife out of her boot and was now brandishing it at Wyatt as he sought to block every jab she made with it.  Lucy watched with horror as Emma knocked Wyatt to the ground and quickly clambered on top of him, pinning him to the ground.  As she reared back her arm, to stab him in the neck, Lucy suddenly didn’t care so much about compliance anymore.  Losing him this way was not an option either.  Grabbing a laptop from off one of the nearby tables, Lucy knocked Emma off of Wyatt with a hefty swing and a grunt.  Wyatt scrambled for his rifle, which was laying nearby, but Emma was too fast. 

 

This time, however, she didn’t go for Wyatt. 

 

She went for Lucy. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for being so long updating this. This chapter has been almost ready for about two weeks now but owing to some continuing drama in my life and the news that my husband would be leaving again for another short deployment a lot sooner than what we expected (TODAY, in fact) this has been put on the back burner of my life.
> 
> I am not one to leave things undone, however..and so I promise I will be updating this and working on this as I can. I appreciate your reading and reviews. Really, writing these stories is the only place I feel the love of the show with the fervor I once had, so while real-life is taking precedence over things like this, I'm going to be over here writing rather than being present on Twitter. Stepping away from the online drama, I think, will help me re-discover the things I loved about Timeless. To those of you who know me from Twitter, I will see you from time to time, I'm sure. I'm still around, but I am taking a very large step back. I hope you understand. It has nothing to do with me not wanting/believing the show can be saved....my hope is still very much for this show...but it does has everything to do with some very real hurt that I'm trying to work through on top of everything else going on in my life. So I need to do this for my own well-being. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading. I hope you enjoyed this update and I hope to be able to update it again *soon*. For those you following my projected works, I am far enough into my Stranded fic where I should be able to start posting chapters from that soon as well. The Torrent epilogue is also still coming along - thank you so much for your patience.


	9. Vodka

Wyatt scrambled to his feet, assault rifle in hand, as he looked on in horror at the situation before him.  Emma had Lucy in a choke hold, the tip of her knife dangerously close and prodding into Lucy’s carotid artery. 

 

One wrong move, one flick of that knife and he could lose her.

 

He looked through his scope, determined to end Emma before she ended Lucy, but this wasn’t a looming Garcia Flynn.  Emma, being nearly the same height as Lucy, was almost completely shielded from view. There was no guarantee he would hit Emma and he sure as hell did not want to hit Lucy.   

 

He hesitated and Emma smirked.  “You can’t do it, can you?”  she mocked. “That’s sweet...you should remember this moment, Lucy, since it will be the last time he chooses you.”

 

Silent tears fell from Lucy’s eyes as Wyatt raised his gun again, a grim determination on his face.   

 

“Do it, Wyatt.” Lucy’s voice urged him on, her eyes pleading with him.  “She’s their only pilot.”  She wanted to communicate the full meaning in that statement.  Yes, it would mean the end of Rittenhouse’s ability to travel in the past…at least for the time being.  But it would also mean that they couldn’t use her feelings for Wyatt against her anymore.  “Do it.” she ordered him again. 

 

“Wyatt?” came Agent Christopher’s voice in his ear, “Do you have a clean shot?”

 

As a Delta Force soldier, weapons training and accuracy is something of a given.  A little over a year ago, when Lucy was in a similar position, he had made that precarious shot.  It hadn’t even registered to him that there could be a danger in hitting Lucy. When she called him on it later, he was almost amused that she had believed he could miss.  _I guess I’m just that good, ma’am,_ was his answer then. 

 

But now?

 

Though his aim was as good as it ever was, this time he could not bring himself to trust in his training.  “Do you have a clean shot?” Agent Christopher’s voice repeated.  Sure, he could make a risky shot like he did in 1937, but the consequences if he missed were far too great for him to even consider it. 

 

“No.” he lied.  An alarm sounded from somewhere within the compound and suddenly the room was erupting in a myriad of small explosions. As the rest of his team poured into the compound, Wyatt panicked, worried that one wrong move from them might hurt Lucy.  “Hold your fire!” he yelled out, his voice cracking with emotion as Emma dragged Lucy backwards with her towards the Mothership. 

 

“Take the shot, Wyatt.” Agent Christopher ordered.  “It’s clean.” Wyatt grimaced at that, understanding now that his head cam was probably back online, but still he could not bring himself to pull the trigger.  

 

His resolve was further tested when Carol Preston emerged into the room, freezing at the sight of the armed agents all pointing their rifles at Emma and Lucy.  He could take her, use her as leverage against Emma…the two Preston women’s lives hanging in the balance…but one look at Lucy and he knew such action on his part would be unforgivable.  Any move against Carol would undoubtedly hurt Lucy.  She may have been the cause of so much of Lucy’s pain, but she was still her mother and Wyatt knew that despite her disappointment and disillusionment, she still loved her.

 

Taking sight of Carol, Emma eased her way over to her, using Lucy as a means to shield them both, “If any one of you so much as flinches, she dies.” Emma warned as she covered Carol’s path to the Mothership.   

 

“Hold your fire.” Wyatt ordered as he watched helplessly as Emma drag Lucy away from him.  As they climbed the stairs to the Mothership, Lucy’s voice sent a chill into his heart, ‘Please…please don’t.” she cried.  “Don’t do this, mom…please.”

 

He was desperately thinking of a plan to stop Rittenhouse from taking off with Lucy again when several shots fired from his right sent him reeling as the blast of several more explosions had his team ducking for cover.  Through the haze of fire and smoke, he could see a man in a robe, brandishing a gun and making his way to the Mothership.  The wind was completely knocked out of him, but as he righted himself, he could hear Lucy screaming his name and he saw her fiercely clawing at Emma in an attempt to break away from her.  No longer in immediate danger, and with Wyatt still attempting to regain his senses, a shot was fired from his team, injuring the man who had shot Wyatt and giving Lucy the chance she needed to break free from Emma’s grip. Stumbling down the stairs as Emma and the others safely stowed themselves away into the Mothership, she was met by Homeland agents who, after assessing her for injuries, allowed her to rush to Wyatt’s side. 

 

Throwing off his helmet and head cam and tossing his rifle aside, Wyatt wrapped Lucy up in his arms, before pulling away from her, his hands cupping her face, and scanning her for any injuries.  His fingers paused at a small, superficial scrape on her neck.  “It’s nothing.” Lucy muttered through her tears.  “It’s just a scratch.”

 

Unconvinced, he wiped away at the blood pooling to the surface of her injury and called for a medic, who took her away for an evaluation.  Wyatt, meanwhile ordered the team to collect whatever they could from the now nearly ruined databases lying around.  He knew from their mission to 1972 that Rittenhouse didn’t keep lists of its members, but he also knew that while they may not have a list of names, they sure as hell had properties, financial records, and holdings…paper trails that would lead them somewhere. 

 

After this last week of hell and tonight especially, he was determined to cut the head off of this damn snake.  They had been a thorn in their side for far too long, but it as much as he hated them for their actions against the team collectively, he absolutely despised them for what they had done to Lucy.  He cast one look at her, as she was having a small bandage applied to her neck and sighed. He was glad she was safe, but given her reaction to seeing him, he knew there was something very wrong.  She didn’t want to leave…why? 

 

Seeing an opportunity to delegate a few tasks, Wyatt made his way back over to Lucy’s side as the medic handed her a small bottle of water.  “You gonna be alright?” he asked in a hushed voice. 

 

Lucy, however, didn’t answer him.  She really didn’t know what to say.  Physically, she would be fine, as she had surmised the injury to her neck was superficial, hardly anything to get worked up about.  Emotionally, however, she was a total wreck.  While she was happy to see Wyatt, she knew their reunion would be short-lived.  Rittenhouse would retaliate and while she couldn’t be sure how they would go about resurrecting Wyatt’s dead wife, she had no doubt that after what had just passed, they would do everything in their power to see that they did. 

 

Wyatt, not understanding why Lucy was acting so strangely, but knowing it had to be linked to whatever she went through since she was taken in 1934, merely wrapped her up in a blanket and led her to a quiet corner of the room.  Sitting her down on a small chair, he pressed a kiss to her temple and muttered, “Agent Christopher is on her way, we’ll be out of here soon, okay?” 

 

Still, she did not respond. She stared at the void where the Mothership once stood, wondering where it was now, wondering if Wyatt, the warehouse, all of it would disappear if they were successful in their retribution, wondering if, even if history changed all around her, if some part of her would still remember. 

 

A tear escaped her as she realized that wouldn’t be possible.  By resetting the timeline to make it so Jessica had never died, it would almost guarantee that Wyatt would never have been the one chosen for this mission. What had he told her in Hollywood? He had taken on the mission at Mason because it was dangerous, because he had stopped caring.  With a wife he loved at his side, maybe even a child or two in the mix, the likelihood of Wyatt being the one called into this operation was slim to none. 

 

No.  If they were successful, she and Wyatt would never have met and while she was almost grateful that the pain of losing him would disappear the minute they saved Jessica, it was the thought of knowing that her memories of him would be lost forever that had her incapable of doing any more than offering Wyatt a small nod as he placed a comforting hand on her back. 

 

God, how she wished he wouldn’t do that. 

 

That one small gesture reminded her of how much she stood to lose.  The dam on her emotions burst forth and she found herself crying pitifully into Wyatt’s chest as he hugged her closer.  How much longer would she be able to find comfort in his embrace? Minutes, hours, days?  What did it matter, really?  He was as good as lost to her…and she could never tell him. 

 

Jessica had been his lightning bolt, his reason for living and here she was crying that he was going to get the love of his life back.

 

“What the hell did they do to you, Lucy?” Wyatt muttered into her hair as he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. 

 

Understanding that Wyatt would keep asking questions that she would not be able to answer, Lucy quickly wiped away her tears and stiffened her upper lip.  No matter how much pain she was feeling, she couldn’t let him know.  If these were the last few moments they would have together, she didn’t want them to be full of sadness.  Straightening herself up, she pulled herself away from him and tugged the blanket he had draped over her shoulders a little closer.

Wyatt looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to answer him…

 

But no answer came. 

 

“Lucy?” Wyatt asked tentatively, “what happened?  What did they do to you?”

 

Lucy, however, only shook her head slightly.  Wyatt reached out to touch her face, but she refused to meet his eye.  Instead, she jerked her head away from his hand as she murmured, “Nothing…please, it doesn’t matter.”

 

Wyatt gaped at her, hardly believing the sudden change in her emotions.  It was as if she had slipped a mask over her face.  No longer was her brow lined with tense emotion, instead, she looked solemn and serene.  “Yeah right, nothing.” Wyatt countered gently, “Nothing doesn’t make you cry like that, Lucy.”

 

A flicker of guilt and shame stole across her face momentarily…but Wyatt caught it.  Lucy, still not meeting his eye, shrugged her shoulders slightly, “I’m fine.  I’m just happy to see you, that’s all.”

 

Wyatt knew she was lying. From the moment he busted in that room to get her out of this hellhole, she had backed away from him, refused to even leave…and now she was saying she was happy to see him? 

 

Something was not right…but it was clear to Wyatt she did not want to talk about it…least of all, with him.    

 

And that hurt like hell. 

He made another attempt to talk to her, but was interrupted by an agent who had a question about the salvage operations.  Wyatt hated to leave her in the state she was in, but as he was leading this team, he couldn’t exactly sit back while they did all the work, particularly since he was the one who was supposed to be Agent Christopher’s right hand in all of this. 

 

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and went back to the work of sorting out the mess that was left behind by Carol Preston and her cronies.  The explosions, though small, had been effective.  There wasn’t one damn piece of electronic hardware that wasn’t heavily damaged.  Still, Mason, Rufus and Jiya were the most brilliant people he knew. They figured out how to build a time machine…it didn’t take a stretch of the imagination to figure that they could do something with all of this. 

 

With that in mind, Wyatt ordered some of the larger servers to be loaded into the awaiting government vehicles.  He was standing by the door supervising the transfer of materials out of the compound when Agent Christopher’s voice sounded from behind him, “What do you have for me, Master Sergeant?” She was just exiting her vehicle and making her way into the compound as Wyatt spun around to greet her. 

 

“Not much, I’m afraid. It’s going to take a while to comb through the place, but if we can salvage some of these computers,” Wyatt stated as he motioned to the pile of electronics they had already procured from the ruins of what used to be Rittenhouse headquarters, “there’s got to be intel here.”

 

Agent Christopher cast a steely gaze throughout the burned-out room.  The sight of Lucy sitting alone, wrapped in a blanket caused her to pause.  “How is she?” she asked with a nod in her direction. 

 

Wyatt turned slightly, concern evident all over his face, before turning back to Agent Christopher and responding truthfully, “I don’t know.”  his voice was heavy with emotion, “She won’t talk to me.”

 

Agent Christopher frowned slightly as she studied Lucy.  “Do you think we need to have her evaluated?” she asked Wyatt softly. 

 

The pain in Wyatt’s eyes at that question spoke to the inner turmoil he was feeling in regards to Lucy’s condition.  “She won’t like it.” Wyatt argued. 

 

“You’ve gone through POW training…she hasn’t.” Agent Christopher countered.  “She’s been through a lot in these past few months, it may not be a bad idea.  At the very least it could give her someone to talk to about all of this.”

 

“She has me.” Wyatt said tersely.

 

“That may be so…but she isn’t talking to you.” Agent Christopher reminded him.  Wyatt tensed his jaw at that comment, but absolutely flinched when Agent Christopher sagely added, “Your relationship may be the problem here.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Wyatt asked, affronted.

 

“You could have taken out Emma, Wyatt.  You had a clear shot.”  Agent Christopher reprimanded. “Hell, even Lucy told you to take it.”

 

Wyatt shook his head, “It didn’t…I didn’t think I could safely take that shot without hitting Lucy.”

 

“And what about Carol Preston?” Agent Christopher countered.  “She is the enemy.  She leads this organization.  You had an entire team at your disposal, Wyatt…yet you let her get away.”

 

“Ma’am…” Wyatt began.

 

“No, save the excuses, Wyatt.” Agent Christopher reproved.  “You had a job to do and you failed to eliminate a threat because she was Lucy’s mother.”  Wyatt bit his lip and hung his head in shame, knowing all too well that Agent Christopher was right.  He had let his emotions get the better of him.  “Wyatt, we all care about Lucy, so I understand that you don’t want to cause her anymore pain…but it is your job to eliminate threats and like it or not, Lucy’s family is that threat.”  She sighed heavily as she continued, “Perhaps Lucy understands that and is trying to safely distance herself from you for the good of the team.”

 

Wyatt stared back at Lucy, sad and hurt that she wouldn’t confide him, wouldn’t talk to him…but this latest allegation from Agent Christopher made him feel like she was slipping away and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. 

 

He knew Lucy. Yes, she was the most forgiving and kind-hearted person he had ever met, but he was pretty damn sure that if he treated her mother like the terrorist she was, Lucy would never forgive him.  As much as Lucy had contended that she had lost her mother, Wyatt knew that she held out hope, albeit a very small hope, that Carol Preston would turn over a new leaf.  _Be on the right side of history_ , Lucy had all but begged her in 1918, but to no avail.  It had nearly destroyed her, to lose her mother like that…and Wyatt understood why. 

 

Because despite everything, she loved her. 

 

And why wouldn’t she?  Wyatt’s dad was a world class sonofabitch, but he knew that as much as he despised the man, there was a small part of him that respected him…for the sole reason that he was his father.  That was something that nobody could take away. 

 

Not even Rittenhouse. 

Once all that could be salvaged was safely stowed and carted away, Wyatt and Lucy clambered into the back of a government SUV and began a silent journey back to the bunker.  There was so much Wyatt wanted to say, but if Agent Christopher was right and Lucy was keeping her distance from him, he didn’t want to upset her further.  Instead, he cast sideways glances at her as she stared out of the window.  She hadn’t shed one tear since her breakdown earlier, but Wyatt could tell that underneath her stony expression there was pain.  He could see it in her eyes and the way she would look at him in the rare moments he caught her doing so. 

 

He was at a loss of what to do to help her.  He hated Rittenhouse and what all of this had done to them.  Forced to live underground, presumed dead by the rest of the world…hell, Rufus’s family had even had a memorial service for him.  But Lucy…well, she seemed to bear the brunt of it all.  It wasn’t enough that she had been forced to give up her academic career for these missions…something she hadn’t even volunteered for.  No, she lost her father, her sister…and discovered that her mother was not the woman she thought she was…and like Agent Christopher said, all of that was bound to take a toll.   

 

Wyatt helped her out of the SUV when they arrived, holding onto her elbow as they made their way towards the bunker hatch.  Still, she said nothing and Wyatt was worried that they would spend the rest of the evening in awkward silence but just as they opened the main door, a whoosh and clang of metal on metal announced the arrival of the Lifeboat.  They had just made their way down the hall as Flynn, Rufus and Mason came clambering down the stairs of the time machine, wide smiles on their faces.  Lucy froze at the sight and turned to Wyatt with a gasp, “Mason went along?”

 

Relieved that Lucy was talking again, Wyatt smiled broadly and nodded, “Turns out Mason was the expert for this particular mission.  Even Flynn didn’t know what he knew.” 

 

“Oh yeah?” she asked, grateful for a chance to talk about anything other than what was weighing on her mind, “What was it?”

 

Wyatt shrugged, “Some father of rock n’ roll…an album needing to be recorded or something…I don’t know.”  He sighed and looked over at Lucy intently, “I was a little more concerned about other things.” 

 

Lucy flushed, feeling guilty for shutting Wyatt out, “I’m sorry.” she whispered.  “I…I didn’t mean to leave without telling you.”

 

“Lucy,” Wyatt moaned, “is that what all of this is about?” Lucy frowned slightly, but said nothing more so Wyatt continued, “You did what you needed to do…I can’t be upset about that. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to keep you safe.” 

 

She swallowed hard and looked at him in the eye for the first time since he had stormed into Rittenhouse Headquarters.  “Thank you.” she muttered, “for coming to get me.”

 

Wyatt stared back at her, hardly knowing what to think.  Knowing that she had fought him when he tried to get her out of there, he didn’t know whether he could fully trust that she truly meant it.  He nodded at her solemnly and offered her a slight smirk as he murmured back to her, “Any time…ma’am.”

 

From the moment they had met, that had always been a small source of annoyance and amusement between them. Before he had even set eyes on Lucy, Wyatt had insisted on bestowing that title upon her…much to her exasperation. To her further annoyance, he continued to use it, until one day it didn’t bother her so much.  It became a such a part of who they were, their shared history, their relationship with one another that Wyatt and only Wyatt could refer to her as such. 

 

Now, with the threat of losing him looming over her like a dark, ominous cloud, tears sprang to her eyes the moment that “ma’am” escaped his lips.  Wyatt, absolutely worried for her now, reached out, but she brushed him away, “I’m okay.” she gasped out, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

Wyatt made to argue with her, but suddenly Lucy was being embraced by Rufus who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, “Lucy!  Oh, my God, you’re back!  Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? I don’t think I have to tell you what a mess we were without you.”  He nodded at Wyatt, “This guy here, especially.”  He took in Wyatt’s appearance, “I guess that’s why you didn’t go to 1936, huh?”  Wyatt nodded as he cast a sideways glance at Lucy who was back to not meeting his eye again. Rufus, noting the tension between the two of them, lowered his voice and asked hesitantly, “Is…is everything okay?”

 

Wyatt look towards Lucy, who was back to fighting off tears again.  She pointed down the hall with a forced smile on her face and quipped, “I’m going to go jump in the shower before…um… Flynn gets in there and uses up all the hot water.” 

 

Wyatt watched her go with a heavy sigh prompting Rufus to ask, “What the hell happened tonight?” 

 

Wyatt shook his head, “I don’t know…but I could ask you the same thing.  How was the mission?”

 

Rufus’ face broke into a grin, “A fanboy saved the world.”  he quipped proudly, “Come on, I’ll tell you all about it.”

 

After talking with Rufus over a beer about the 1936 mission, Wyatt cleaned himself up and cautiously approached the bedroom.  The last thing he wanted to do was disturb her, after the hellish week she obviously had. When he quietly pushed open the door, his breath hitched in his throat, so overcome was he from just seeing her back where she belonged.  Lucy was already lying in the bed, though Wyatt could immediately tell she wasn’t asleep. Even so, he silently made his way over to his side of the bed and slipped underneath the covers.

 

They lay there, side by side, not touching, not speaking, centuries seemed to pass until Wyatt, unable to stand it any longer, rolled over and wrapped his arm around Lucy, hugging her close in an attempt to silently communicate to her how much she meant to him.     

 

Far from the cold manner in which she had treated him earlier, Lucy immediately turned into his embrace and nestled her head onto his chest.  Letting out a shaky breath as she wrapped her own arms around him tightly. Relieved that she hadn’t brushed him away again, Wyatt let out a heavy sigh as he caressed her arm.  “I missed you.” he finally managed to say in a harsh whisper. 

 

“I missed you, too” was Lucy’s strangled reply.  He could feel her tears as they fell onto his bare chest and it made him hate Rittenhouse in a way that he had never hated them before.  Whatever the hell they had put her through in this one week had clearly done a number on her emotions.

 

“Get some sleep, Lucy.” Wyatt murmured into her hair before pressing a kiss onto the top of her head. 

 

But Lucy couldn’t sleep. 

 

Well…she imagined she could if she tried, but she didn’t want to sleep.  She lay there, listening to the steady sound of Wyatt’s beating heart, finding comfort in the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing progressively deepened.  Though she tried to focus on him and only him, her mind was plagued with fears that had her shaking off her drowsiness with a fierce determination. 

 

She felt as if she were waiting for the axe to fall.  Every moment seemed to be teetering on the brink of disaster.  She feared sleep, too afraid that she would wake up in a new timeline, not remembering a moment of this one.  She feared being awake, wondering if her reality would suddenly dissolve before her eyes, leaving her confused and disoriented.  When would they bring her back?  Tonight?  Tomorrow? Would they torture her with waiting, lull her into a false sense of security and then set their cruel plan into motion?  Would Wyatt really be happier without her? Could she ever be truly happy without him?

 

These thoughts waged a war within her mind until she could no longer stand the torture of it.  As quietly as she could manage, she slipped out of the bed and pulled on her robe and slippers.  She would never be able to quiet her mind on own, and though she did not want to sleep she needed to at least numb the pain that was plaguing her. 

 

She shuffled out of the bedroom, careful not to make a sound with the door and found herself standing before the cabinets in the kitchen desperately searching for the one thing that could offer her any relief from her troubled thoughts. 

 

Several nights passed much the same way.

During the day, Lucy would strive to maintain a semblance of normalcy.  She threw herself into work to keep her mind occupied and distracted from her anxious thoughts.  Thanks to the Rittenhouse raid there was lots to do.  She helped sort through bits of computer hardware, salvaging screens, and pieces of technology that Jiya and Rufus deemed useful.  Wyatt sat by her side, carefully watching her and talking to her, but never once alluding to the fact that he knew she wasn’t sleeping.   

 

Flynn, if he was out of his room, would observe their busy work from his chair, looking up from his novel from time to time only to make a snarky comment, before settling back into quiet solitude. 

 

After dinner, one night, Lucy sat on the couch watching a movie alone while Rufus and Jiya worked on the LifeBoat and Wyatt cleaned up after dinner.  She had tried to help Mason sort through the bits of computer hardware from the latest pile of salvaged equipment, but it was no use. Days of almost no sleep seemed to be catching up with her and she found herself unable to concentrate on the menial task before her.  Her eyelids felt heavy, but she shook off the drowsiness as she nursed another cup of coffee. 

 

“That’s your third cup today.” Flynn observed with a drawl. 

 

Lucy sat up with a start, observing that Flynn was sitting in the chair just opposite the couch, quietly observing her with apparent amusement.  “So, what if it is?”  Lucy snapped back.

 

Flynn frowned as he shrugged, “I didn’t realize you were such a big coffee drinker.” He said simply. 

 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Lucy said irritably. 

 

Flynn smiled and shook his head as he leaned forward and lowered his voice, “I think sometimes I know you better than you know yourself.”

 

Lucy scoffed as she rolled her eyes, “You’re delusional.”

 

Flynn nodded his head, looking somewhat abashed, “Fine.” he said with a sigh, “but I think you should know, that coffee isn’t going to do you any good.”

 

“And why is that?” Lucy asked sardonically. 

 

“Because it’s decaf.” Flynn quipped with a nod towards Wyatt who was drying dishes, completely oblivious to their hushed conversation.  He chuckled dryly as he left a gaping Lucy sitting on the couch, relishing in the fact that he had won a small victory over her insolence. 

 

She set down her mug and watched him disappear down the hall, no doubt to congratulate himself on being the world’s biggest creep.  Lucy huffed out a breath as she cast a glance towards Wyatt who had just slung the dish towel over his shoulder and had gotten to work scrubbing down the counters and the table.

 

Refusing to believe anything Flynn said at face value, Lucy stood up and made her way into the kitchen, offering Wyatt small smile as she poured what remained of her coffee down the sink. 

 

“Had enough?” Wyatt asked in a hopeful tone as he set to work rinsing it out for her. 

 

Lucy narrowed her eyes at him and turned to the cabinets, “I was thinking of making a new cup, actually.”

 

Wyatt paused in his work slightly, before asking in an unnaturally high voice, “Uh…what was wrong with the cup you just had?”

 

“Nothing.“ Lucy said simply as she stood on her tiptoes to reach the basket where they kept their coffee. “I just felt like making a new cup.”

 

Wyatt, seeing that she had the coffee container in her hand, made a lunge for it, but he was too late. “What’s with all the decaf?” she asked innocently.  “Does anyone here drink decaf?”

 

Doing his best to look as surprised as she was feigning to be, Wyatt shrugged, “I don’t know…maybe Flynn?”

 

Lucy stared back at him, shaking her head.  “You’ve been giving me decaf?  Haven’t you?”

 

Wyatt slumped his shoulders and threw back his head in exasperation, “Lucy…” he breathed out, but she was already making her way back towards the bedroom.  Wyatt flung the dish towel from his shoulder and followed after, cursing under his breath as he did so. 

 

Lucy tore into their bedroom and began pacing.  Her anger at being tricked far outweighing her anxiety at the moment…or maybe she was just that on edge because of everything.  In any case, she rounded on Wyatt the moment he set foot in the room, “I can’t believe you tried to trick me.”  

 

“Lucy, I wasn’t trying to…” Wyatt began defensively.  “I just…I know you aren’t sleeping.”  Lucy scoffed but Wyatt gave her a look that told her it was no use trying to deny it. She folded her arms in front of her chest defensively as he pressed on, “Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened with your mom, Lucy…and if you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine. But Lucy, you need to sleep. This…this isn’t healthy.”

 

“Says the man who let his arm get septic because he wouldn’t rest when I told him to.”

 

“This is different and you know it, Lucy.” Wyatt scolded. “You haven’t been the same since that night I pulled you out of Rittenhouse…admit it.”  Lucy sank down on the bed and held her head in her hands, but she didn’t argue with him.  “Something is clearly bothering you.” Wyatt pressed on, “So, what is it?  Huh?  Dammit, Lucy,” Wyatt breathed out his voice heavy in concern, “I just want to help you.”    

 

“I know” came Lucy’s small voice.  “But believe me when I say, there’s nothing you or I can do to change this.” 

 

“Change what?” Wyatt urged as he knelt down beside her, “Lucy…what the hell did they do to you in there?”

 

She let out a derisive laugh as tears sprang to her eyes, “Oh you know…the usual.  Reading propaganda, veiled threats…coercion.”

   

“Did they make you do something to prove your loyalty again?” Wyatt asked seriously.

 

Lucy looked at Wyatt with pleading eyes, not wanting him to see the truth she had been striving to keep hidden for so long. 

 

If he knew…what would his reaction be?    

 

That almost scared her more than thought of losing him.  To see the glimmer of hope and excitement in his eye when he found out that in any moment he could be back with Jessica, in a timeline where her murder never took place? It would break her heart more fully knowing that he was eager for the reset than just waiting, in lonely isolation, for such a reset to take place.  

 

It’s not like she could blame him for being hopeful about the prospect of having his wife back again. She was the love of his life, the woman he had vowed to have and to hold forever, and her death had been his life’s greatest regret.  No matter what she felt for him, no matter what he felt for her, his heart would always belong to Jessica. 

 

For him to discover that Lucy had complied with her mother’s demands in order to prevent such his miraculous reunion with his murdered wife…well, she wasn’t sure she could withstand the look of hurt and betrayal on his face.  So, she lied. 

 

“No…they didn’t make me do anything.” 

 

Wyatt looked at her doubtfully, but decided that it was best not to press the issue.  Instead, he placed his hand on hers, rubbing a comforting circle on her wrist with his thumb. 

 

Not much more was said by either the rest of the night.  Wyatt, Lucy noted, took much longer to fall asleep than usual…his determination to see that Lucy get some much-needed rest outweighing the demands of his own exhausted state.  After what felt like several hours however, his breathing deepened and the weight of the arm wrapped around her shoulders seemed decisively heavy. 

Once more, Lucy slipped out from under the covers, donned her robe and made her way down the hall and into the kitchen.  A small light shone from the end table in the common room, casting an eerie glow throughout the space.  As quietly as she could manage she pried open the upper cabinet and cast her eyes over the various bottles in what served as their mini bar, her brow furrowed in confusion as she noted the one she preferred was missing from its regular nook.     

 

“Looking for this?” Flynn’s voice sounded softly behind her causing her to whirl around with a gasp.

 

“You scared me.” she breathed out, clutching her chest, willing her heart to slow its rapid pace.

He was holding a half empty bottle of vodka, smirking at her knowingly.  Lucy eyed him suspiciously, “How did you…? 

 

“I told you,” Flynn said with a smirk, “I know you better than you know yourself.”

 

Lucy glared at him. “You’ve been spying on me.” she accused. 

 

“Why would I need to spy on you?” Flynn asked in mock indignation, “You forget that you gave me your journal.” 

 

“Which may or may not be true…” Lucy countered. 

 

He took a step towards her, essentially trapping her in the kitchen as he whispered, “No, you gave it to me and told me to read it…and I did.”

 

Lucy stared back at him, unsure of whether to trust what he said or not.  There were so many unanswered questions she had about that journal and what had caused her to give it to Garcia Flynn in the first place. What was she trying to change? What was she trying to prevent?  Did she know that by doing so, she would lose her sister?  She needed answers.  With a look of steely determination, she looked up at Flynn, large and looming above her, “Why?  Why would I give it to you?”  she let out a incredulous laugh, “ _How_ did I even give it to you?”

 

“Do you really want to know?” Flynn asked with a raised brow.  He lifted up the bottle of vodka and tilted his head towards his room, “I’ll be happy to tell you the whole story, but not here.” he said with a determined nod.

 

Lucy’s eyes darted around the darkened common area, “Why not here?” she asked in bewilderment.

 

“Because someone might be lurking in a corner listening to every word we say.” Flynn said with a bemused smirk as he walked away, bottle of vodka in hand.   

 

Lucy bit her lip as she debated her situation.  She knew that Flynn wasn’t to be trusted, but he was also the only one who had read that damn journal and as such, was the only one who could provide her with some insight.  Wyatt had told her that if she didn’t like the future Flynn had predicted for her in that journal, then she had the power to rewrite it…but did she?  She didn’t even know what was in the journal…and if she had indeed given it to Flynn, did that mean she was supposed to rewrite her future?  She wondered what that future entailed.  Did it include Wyatt?  Had Jessica been brought back?  Maybe that was what she was meant to change…and if she had changed that because she selfishly wanted Wyatt, how did it make her any better than her mother?   

   

Heaving a heavy sigh and already regretting her decision, Lucy stole after Flynn down the darkened corridor towards his room where he was standing by his open door waiting for her. As she approached, he ushered her in with a flourish of his hand and satisfied smirk.  She entered with a cautious glance around her, something that made Flynn chuckle as he shut the door behind them. 

 

Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Lucy bristled, “Look, you don’t know me…and the things you’ve done…” she shook her head, “I cannot believe that I would ever agree to them, that I would give you this journal to torch history.”

 

“You didn’t give me the journal to torch history,” Flynn said with a sigh as he took a seat in a lopsided desk chair, “you gave me the journal in order to save it.”

 

He twisted the cap off the bottle of vodka and began pouring the crystal-clear liquid into two mugs sitting on his desk.  Lucy scoffed at his admission, “And just when did I do this?”

 

“In 2014.” Flynn answered promptly.  “It was two weeks after my family was killed.  On Christmas Eve.”  His face was serious as he took a sip vodka and handed a mug to Lucy.  “I was alone, in hiding, in Sao Paulo, Brazil.  The only thing keeping me from killing myself was my determination to take out the bastards that had murdered my family.” He nodded at Lucy, “I was on my third drink when you came in.”

 

“Impossible.” Lucy said with a shake of her head, feeling silly for having believed Flynn would tell her the truth.  “I’ve never been to Sao Paulo.”

 

“Maybe not yet.” Flynn maintained with a nod, “But you were there…you looked older…probably a few years older than you are now.  You told me your name, told me you knew that Rittenhouse had killed my family.  You told me there was a way to stop them, but to do it, I was going to need your help and that is when you handed me the journal.”

 

“No.” Lucy said in agitation, “it’s not possible.  We can’t travel back onto our own timeline.”

 

“You were there, so it has to be possible.” Flynn said with a shrug. “Maybe Rufus and Jiya will figure out a way.”

“And why would I travel back to give you the journal?  The minute you used it…” Lucy’s voice caught in her throat as she remembered the awful feeling when she had come home from 1937 to find her sister gone.  “…Amy is gone because of what you did.” she gasped out with a sob. 

 

Flynn looked suddenly uncomfortable, shifting slightly in his chair, before clearing his throat and admitting ruefully, “I never intended for that to happen, Lucy.  Your sister disappearing…I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I took that journal and thought only of using it as a way to save my family…to stop the people that killed them.”

 

Lucy nodded as she took a sip of her vodka, not quite able to meet Flynn’s eye as she contemplated everything he said.  Some future version of herself had risked traveling back on her own timeline to hand Flynn this journal.  It was that, which prompted him to steal the time machine.  That meant all of this, everything that had happened to her since that fateful night when she was first called in to Mason Industries had started because of her…because of what she did.  “So, what you’re saying is,” she muttered softly, “I’m no better than my mother…than Rittenhouse.”

 

“You are _nothing_ like your mother, Lucy.” Flynn spat out angrily.  His reaction took Lucy by surprise, and her eyes darted up to his automatically in rapt curiosity as to how he could even make such a statement when, as far as she knew, he had never even met Carol Preston.  

 

Lucy looked at him thoughtfully, wondering what other secrets he held, what other things he knew from the journal and whether he knew what Rittenhouse had in store for her…for them. All of them. “If I went back to change my future, then yes I am.” she argued quietly.

 

Flynn frowned slightly as he murmured, “I don’t think giving me this journal was about changing your future.”  He nodded at her in assurance, “I think it was about stopping them from ruining it.” Once again, Lucy’s eyes darted to his. Whether he was giving her a hint about Jessica or not was beyond her comprehension.  Flynn’s expression was unreadable and as he was back to sipping his vodka he didn’t seem to be interested in expounding on that statement any further. 

 

Following his lead, Lucy took another drink from her own cup, grimacing slightly as the alcohol burned its way down her throat.  She couldn’t bring herself to come right out and ask the question that had been weighing so heavily on her mind for the past few days, so instead she skirted around the issue by bringing up his own family, “You once told me that if you were successful in saving your wife and daughter, you would…walk away from them.” Flynn lowered his cup from his lips and looked at Lucy with renewed interest.  “After fighting so hard to get her back, after killing through time…how could you walk away from that chance to have her in your life again?”

 

Flynn sighed and set down his mug and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his thighs, “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be difficult.” Flynn said sorrowfully, “I would do anything to see my family for just five more minutes…but knowing what I’ve done…”

 

“If she loved you, she would forgive you.” Lucy muttered with a nod.  “It wouldn’t matter what you had done, really…because that timeline wouldn’t exist anymore.”  A tear escaped her as she continued, “It would only be your memories that would stand between you and a second chance at happiness.”

 

Flynn studied her thoughtfully, his mouth twisting pensively as his eyes attempted to read the sorrow behind hers.  “That’s true.” he said after a long while.  “It’s hard to say how any of us would act if someone we loved was suddenly brought back to us, you, me…” he gave her a meaningful glance before adding, “Wyatt.”  At the sound of his name, Lucy flushed and took another sip of her vodka, her hand shaking as she did so. 

 

With a knowing nod and a serious look, Flynn observed, “Wyatt already tried to save his wife once, didn’t he?” 

 

Lucy swallowed hard, almost ashamed to admit to Flynn that he had, “Actually,” she muttered, “he’s tried to save her twice.”

 

“Twice?” Flynn asked, sounding surprised.  “I had no idea he was such a rule breaker.”

 

Lucy ‘s lip quirked into a slight smile, “He only stole the time machine once…but the name you gave him didn’t work.” she said as if suddenly realizing Flynn might have purposefully sent him on a wild goose chase. 

 

Catching her inference, Flynn threw up his hands defensively, “I only told him the name I received from my contacts.”

 

“He seemed to think it was a pretty sure lead.” Lucy accused as she narrowed her eyes. 

 

“Well, that was his own fault for believing a wanted terrorist.”  Flynn said with a chuckle, completely diffusing the situation. 

 

Lucy laughed in spite of herself.  Watching Wyatt leave her home, seeing him come back, desperate, heart broken, being carted off to God knows where…that had been one of the most heartbreaking experiences she ever had to witness.  To be sitting here with Flynn, of all people, joking about it, seemed more than a little surreal. 

 

Flynn smiled as he pressed her for more information, “So, did he try to save her again before or after I told him Wes Gilliam was the guy?” 

 

“Before.” Lucy said with a sigh.  She let out a derisive laugh as she explained, “He sent her a Western Union telegram from 1962.  You know, the mission where you kidnapped Judith Campbell and stole that nuclear core?”

 

“Ah…yes.” said Flynn, remembering.  “So, Wyatt actually sent a telegram to the future?  Like in _Back to the Future II?”_

 

“That was the idea, yes.” Lucy murmured as she took another sip of vodka.

 

“And I’m guessing that didn’t work.” Flynn quipped as he leaned back in his chair.

 

“No.” Lucy said shortly. “It didn’t.” She tapped her fingers on her mug nervously and bit her lip debating over whether she should divulge her mother’s plans to Flynn or not.  She could not talk to Wyatt about this and Rufus would urge her to do just that…but the burden of it all was becoming too much.  Flynn, having lost his own family, might be able to give her some much-needed perspective.  Taking a steadying breath, Lucy confessed, “My mother told me that if I didn’t cooperate…if I didn’t comply, they would bring Jessica back.”

 

“I’m sorry, Lucy” Flynn said slowly.  “Though I did warn you Rittenhouse would exploit your relationship with Wyatt.”

 

“I know you did.” Lucy admitted ruefully, “but this really isn’t the time to gloat.”

 

“I didn’t mean it to gloat, Lucy.” Flynn maintained as he leaned forward in his chair again, “I only point that out because it’s how they operate.  They use whatever they can find against you…to destroy you.”          

 

Lucy nodded as fresh tears sprang to her eyes, “I am so happy to be back here and away from there, but I’m so terrified, because I feel like any moment history will change and she’ll be back and…”

 

“Wyatt will be gone.” Flynn said sympathetically.  He studied her thoughtfully for a good long while, allowing her time to wipe her tears and drink some more vodka before responding, “What information do you think Rittenhouse will use to bring her back?”

 

Lucy lowered the mug from her lips and shrugged, “ I…I don’t know.”

 

“There’s no police evidence that indicates her murderer, there were no witnesses to the crime…and you, yourself said that Wyatt has tried twice and failed both times to bring her back.”

 

Lucy shook her head slightly as she asked in confusion, “What’s your point?”

 

“My point is,” declared Flynn, “Rittenhouse knows no more about the murder of Jessica Logan than anybody else does.  It was a scare tactic, Lucy.  I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

 

Lucy considered what Flynn said as she bit her lip.  Any information they had about Jessica’s murder they would have gotten from the police reports and newspaper clippings.  Wyatt had spent years poring over the evidence and had come up empty handed…what would make Rittenhouse successful in preventing her murder where Wyatt was not? 

 

Could Flynn be right? Could it have all been a massive manipulation?  “Th…thank you.” Lucy stammered out amazed, “I…I didn’t think of it that way.”

 

Flynn looked genuinely happy to have been of some help to her.  He smirked as he reached out his hand for Lucy’s mug to refill it.  Lucy made a mild protestation, but Flynn held up his hand and waved it off, explaining, “You deserve a chance to relax, Lucy.  You’ve had a stressful few days.” He winked at her as he handed her back the mug, while he stood up and crossed over to the door, “Wait here.” he said in a voice filled with amusement. 

 

Confused, Lucy sat on Flynn’s cot, waiting for him to reappear.  Minutes passed and finally he remerged with a vinyl record in his hand. “This,” he explained, “is a souvenir from our last mission.  Robert Johnson, King of the Delta Blues.” Flynn announced as he pulled the record out from its protective cover.  Produced by none other than one Lando Calrissian.”

 

Lucy snorted a laugh into her mug, “What?  You didn’t?”

 

“You’re right.  I didn’t…that was Mason.”  Flynn announced as he fitted the record onto the player stashed in the corner of his room.  The scratch of needle on vinyl followed by the soulful sounds of a blues guitar filled the room as Flynn sank back down in his chair and lifted his mug in cheers to Lucy. “Would you like to hear how Connor Mason saved rock n roll as we know it?”

 

Grateful for a distraction, Lucy nodded her head, grinning as she responded, “Yes, please.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a very long chapter, I know. 
> 
> And it was angsty. I'm sorry....but I truly don't believe that Lyatt wouldn't have some issues even the RHT had never stepped foot in the bunker. They both carry a lot of baggage and insecurities, but I hope that you'll stick with me and trust where I'm going with this. 
> 
> You'll notice that I still have Lucy talk with Flynn...and while I hate the whole idea of that scene in Season 2....I really wanted it in here in a different light. Because Lucy didn't go on the Delta Blues mission in my fic, I needed a chance for her and Flynn to talk about the journal, about Amy...and I needed him to be a sort of confidante for her...and again, if you trust me, you'll see why that's important later on. 
> 
> I'm sorry for all the angst. I promise good things will be coming!! Just hang on a little longer!!! 
> 
> As always, I love and appreciate you all taking the time to read this fic. If you are so inclined, leave a review...I love to hear from you.


	10. A New Objective

The squeak of an opening door pierced Lucy’s dreamless sleep like nails on a chalkboard.  She felt as if she had just closed her eyes, but from the stiffness plaguing her left side, she knew that she must have been asleep for hours.  She groaned as she shifted under the covers, wondering why the hell she hadn’t thought to take her robe off before clambering into bed.  As she rolled over her hand brushed, not against Wyatt, but against the freezing metal wall of the bunker.  A moment of confusion and suddenly, the events of the previous night came crashing down on her like an icy cold shower.  With a gasp, Lucy sat bolt upright in the bed, only to discover with a horrified yelp that her fears were confirmed…she was not only in Flynn’s room…she was sleeping in his bed.   

 

“Oh my God.” Lucy stammered out as she raised a shaking hand to her head, “What did I do?”

 

She startled backwards in the covers at the sight of Flynn smirking at her and handing her a cup of coffee, “Still here, I see?”

 

Lucy tore the blankets away from her and slid her feet back into her slippers, “I’m…I’m so…I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

 

“You needed the sleep.” Flynn shrugged, “I didn’t mind taking the couch.”  Shame-faced, but relieved that Flynn had apparently been a gentleman, Lucy took a sip of the proffered coffee, “That’s _not_ decaf, by the way.” Flynn noted with a nod. 

 

Lucy chuckled and muttered an awkward, “Thanks” remembering his tip from the day before as she took another sip from her mug.  She closed her eyes and delighted in the warmth that filled her as she savored the aromatic pleasure that was a morning cup of coffee.  The last vestiges of sleep began to melt away the more she indulged, causing her to inwardly laugh at herself for not realizing Wyatt’s deception before Flynn had made her aware. 

 

Wyatt.

 

Spewing out her coffee, Lucy untangled herself from the mess of blankets still wrapped haphazardly around her form and made a clumsy lunge for the door.   

 

Flynn gaped at her in mock surprise, “What’s wrong?” he asked as a hint of smile formed on his lips. 

 

“I’m sorry, I…I should go. I should not be here with you…like this.” Lucy stammered out in mortification. 

  
“Like what?” Flynn said with a frown and shrug. “We’re two adults chatting over coffee.”

 

“Yes, but I’m in _your room_ , Flynn…that’s…that’s…”

 

“It’s not as if you did anything you should be ashamed of.” Flynn muttered in a lazy drawl as he took a sip of coffee from his own mug. “There’s really no need to rush off, Lucy.”

“No, I didn’t…I mean…we didn’t…I mean, you said yourself, you slept on the couch…so…”Lucy nodded in agitation, looking to Flynn for verification, “nothing happened…right?”

 

Flynn chuckled in amusement and shook his head. 

 

Sighing in relief, Lucy gripped onto the door handle, “I don’t mean to be rude, thank you…for you know…helping me…but really…I should go.” Lucy stammered in embarrassment as she pushed the door open and stumbled into the hall.  Thinking she should probably freshen up before returning to her bedroom, she turned on her heel to make for the bathroom only to find herself face to face with a stunned looking Wyatt, a look of utter betrayal etched all over his newly woken face. 

 

Lucy froze on the spot, feeling the flush of shame rise on her cheek as she dropped her gaze from Wyatt’s face to the fuzzy tips of her slippers.  “This…this isn’t what it looks like.” she stammered out in agitation. 

 

Wyatt said nothing for a long while.  Whether it was because he didn’t know what to say or was just too stunned to speak, was anybody’s guess…Lucy certainly couldn’t look him in the eye.  All she knew was the awkward silence that filled the space between them was enough to make her wish that the floor would just open up and swallow her whole.    

 

When Wyatt did speak, his voice broke through the unsettling quiet like a cannon shot, even though his voice was little more than a whisper.  “It looks like you spent the night in Flynn’s room.” he said in a soft voice quavering with emotion “Are you telling me that’s not true?”

 

“No…that’s true.” Lucy breathed out in a half sob.  “But Wyatt…” He, however, didn’t wait around for her explanation, instead, he turned and made his way back down the hall away from her. 

 

She felt sick.

 

Of course, Wyatt would be upset.  He had been nothing but kind and patient with her…even that trick with the coffee was him acting out of concern…and what had she done in return?  She pushed him away all week, snuck out of their room in the dead of night only to be found the next morning stumbling out of Flynn’s bedroom.  _Flynn’s_ _bed_ room.

 

If it had been Rufus’ she was pretty sure Wyatt wouldn’t have reacted nearly the same way.  Hell, if it had been Rufus’ room they would’ve all been laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. 

 

Why the hell did she agree to talk with Flynn in _there_?  Why the hell did she drink so much?     

 

As much as she didn’t look forward to what was promising to be a very awkward conversation, she knew she had to set things right…and fast.  She raced down the hall after Wyatt, holding onto the front of her robe as she quickly turned the corner and found him in deep conversation with a grave looking Agent Christopher. 

 

“Wyatt…please, I need to expl” she began, but as they both turned their faces to look at her when she approached, she let out a horrified gasp.  The entire left side of Agent Christopher’s face was battered and bruised, though it was obvious that attempts had been made to conceal it with make-up.  Lucy rushed to her side in concern, “What happened?” she breathed out.

 

Agent Christopher exchanged a dark look with Wyatt who nodded solemnly, before casting a quick, but serious glance at Lucy and walked away again, leaving her alone with the Homeland Security Agent.  “I think you and I need to have a talk, Lucy.” she muttered gently as she led her away towards her bedroom. 

 

Once inside, Agent Christopher shut the door and ushered Lucy to one of the two chairs in the room. “What happened to you?” Lucy breathed out in a voice of concern.  “Who…who did that to you?” 

 

Agent Christopher shrugged off Lucy’s questions with a wave of her hand, “How are _you_ feeling?” she asked gently and with real concern.

 

“Me?” Lucy asked incredulously. “I’m…I’m fine.  But you…”

 

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle this…it’s part of the job.” Agent Christopher dismissed with a wave of her hand as she leaned forward and studied Lucy seriously, “But you…you’ve been through a lot these past few weeks and I’m just concerned with how you’re holding up.”

 

Although touched by the genuine affection Agent Christopher showed for her, couldn’t help but feel like she was being evaluated. Lucy spat out defensively, “I’m fine…really.” Lucy assured to a doubtful looking Agent Christopher, “Look, I know I haven’t been sleeping, but…”

 

Agent Christopher waved her hand, “That’s not what I’m asking.  It’s only natural for you to have trouble sleeping after everything you’ve been through.” she said quietly, “But, Lucy…it’s okay to admit that things aren’t fine…so let me ask you again, how are you?

 

Lucy sighed as tears sprang to her eyes, “I’ve been better.” she admitted ruefully.

 

“Naturally.” Agent Christopher said with a small sad smile, “as I said, you’ve been through a hell of a lot these past few weeks…and you haven’t been trained as I have…or even as Wyatt has to deal with these kinds of situations.”

 

Lucy let out an exasperated sigh.  She was tired of being told that she was “just a civilian”…she was pretty sure that no longer applied to her the moment Homeland Security knocked on her door and basically strong armed her into jumping into a time machine.  Hadn’t she proven herself time and time again? Granted, she would be the first person to admit that she was not anywhere close to the same level Wyatt was in terms of combat readiness, but had she ever shied away from danger or risk? Had she ever complained that she wasn’t trained and prepared the same way Wyatt had been?  Even when bad things did happen, she did her best to keep her fears to herself so that she wouldn’t affect the rest of the team.  This last run-in with Rittenhouse was the perfect example.  Telling Wyatt what Rittenhouse had threatened her with would only serve to upset them both…

 

“Wait a minute” Lucy asked as she narrowed her eyes at Agent Christopher, “Did Wyatt put you up to this?” 

 

Typically, she wouldn’t have ever suspected that Wyatt would go to Agent Christopher in an attempt to wheedle information out of her.  But, given his upset over Flynn…and the fact that she interrupted the two of them before Agent Christopher declared her need to “have a talk” with Lucy, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, out of sheer desperation, he had recruited her to his cause in the hopes that under the combined pressure, Lucy would crack and confess all that Rittenhouse had put her through.

 

Agent Christopher, however, negated those fears directly, “Wyatt didn’t tell me anything, Lucy.” she said with a reassuring smile.  “He’s worried about you…I can see that with my own eyes.” Lucy nodded as she bit her lip and shifted uncomfortably.  “We’re all worried about you…but that’s not why I wanted to speak with you…well, not entirely anyway.”  Agent Christopher sighed heavily as she sat back in her chair and considered Lucy for a few moments before saying in a voice laden with regret, “The reason I wanted to talk with you…well, there’s no better way to put this…we have a serious problem.”

 

Panic stole through her as she observed the solemn expression on Agent Christopher’s face.  Had they done it?  Had they brought Jessica back? 

 

Then she remembered that they couldn’t have…because Wyatt was still here and angry that she had spent the night in Flynn’s room.  Shaking her head to focus her thoughts she leaned forward in her chair and touched Agent Christopher’s hand, “What…what happened?”

 

A soft knock on the door interrupted Agent Christopher’s attempt at a reply.  As they both turned to look at the door, Wyatt stepped in, ice pack in hand, offering it to Agent Christopher, who took it from him gratefully. He nodded his head and turned to go again, but Agent Christopher stopped him, “Wyatt, seeing as this affects you too, I think you should probably stay for this…if that’s alright with Lucy, of course.” 

 

At that, Lucy was nearly beside herself with dread.  Something terrible must have occurred to involve them _both_.  Wyatt looked towards her, hurt still evident on his face, but seeing that Lucy made no objection, he shut the door again and stuffed his hands in his pockets, his attention turned fully towards Agent Christopher.  “What’s going on?” he asked seriously. 

 

“Well…as I said, there’s no way to sugar coat this, Lucy.  Rittenhouse wants you dead.”  she remarked with sigh. 

 

“That’s nothing new.” Lucy quipped glibly heaving out a small sigh of relief, but Wyatt was clearly affected by the news.  He began pacing the room in agitation, casting sidelong glances at Lucy as he did so. “Emma tried to kill us all in Darlington.” Lucy reminded them both, “This isn’t all that surprising.”        

 

Not giving any heed to Wyatt’s clear apprehension, Agent Christopher continued on gravely, “That may be, but I have it on good authority that their number one mission is to eliminate _you_.” 

 

Lucy swallowed hard, not daring to look at Wyatt who breathed out a curse.  “How do you know this?” she asked Agent Christopher quietly.

 

“I got called into a very unexpected meeting with your mother.” she responded with a smirk.  “As you see,” the Homeland Security continued as she motioned to her face, “we did not end it on the best of terms.”

 

Lucy hung her head, ashamed at the lengths her mother had gone to for retaliation.  “I’m so sorry,” Lucy apologized as she fought to keep her tears at bay, “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.”

 

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me for your mother’s actions, Lucy.” Agent Christopher assured her firmly.  “You should know, however, that she seems to be actually concerned about your welfare.”

 

Lucy scoffed as the silent tears she failed to quell, rolled down her face, “That’s a first.” she muttered sardonically.

 

“She beat the hell out of you to let you know that she’s worried about Lucy’s welfare?” Wyatt muttered, disbelieving. 

 

“She wants you off the missions” Agent Christopher explained.  “she wants me to bench you.”

 

Lucy’s eyes darted to hers as she swallowed hard again, “Are you?” she asked in a quavering voice.

 

“I told her that wasn’t my call to make.” Agent Christopher sighed as she leaned back in her chair. She smiled, “And as I said, she didn’t take that very well.”  Lucy cast her eyes downward, humiliated that her family had caused so much pain for the people she cared most about in the world.  “You have the choice, Lucy.  You should not feel in any way obligated to risk your life any more than you already have. We have Flynn now, he can round out the team…you can brief before they go…” 

 

“What?” Lucy gasped out in alarm. “No…no…”

 

“Lucy,” Wyatt argued, “Didn’t you hear what she just said?  They’re going to kill you.”

 

“No.” Lucy maintained as she her eyes darted between Agent Christopher and Wyatt, “Nothing has changed. My life was always at risk on these missions.”  She looked at Wyatt firmly as she maintained, “The same as everybody else.”

 

“Lucy, this isn’t some question of collateral damage, dammit!” Wyatt spat out forcefully, “Their objective is to _kill you_.”

 

“There is no way I am staying in this bunker while everyone else is risking their lives to stop Rittenhouse.” Lucy snapped back.  She pointed to Agent Christopher’s face, “My mother did that…it’s not fair for others to suffer while I hide.”  She took a steadying breath as she looked back at Agent Christopher, “I will do the missions just as I always have.”

 

Wyatt breathed out another curse as Agent Christopher eyes darted between them, “Alright, Lucy. It’s your decision, as long as you are fully aware of the risks?”

 

Lucy nodded her head resolutely, “I am.” she maintained. 

 

“Good.” She sighed as she stood up from the chair, “Well, I must say, your mother certainly underestimated you.  We’re used to seeing these intimidation tactics in the field, but you…well, let’s just say if you were my daughter, I’d be proud.”

 

Wyatt, however, was not proud.  He was angry. Shaking his head in frustration, he stormed out of the room and made his way down the hall.  Agent Christopher looked to Lucy with concern, “Well…he didn’t take that well.  I’m sorry…I can speak to Wyatt, if you’d like.”

 

“No.” Lucy said softly with a shake of her head, “I’ll do it.”  she muttered as she watched the Homeland Security Agent leave the room. 

 

Now there was something else that she needed to smooth over with Wyatt.  If Rittenhouse’s plan was to drive a wedge between them, they were doing a bang-up job.  Using Jessica as leverage against Lucy had been a brilliant move on their part now that she had come to think of it. 

 

Scare tactic, that’s what Flynn had said it was.

 

And she had played right into their hands.  She was so scared of losing Wyatt that she pushed him away when she should have opened up and talked with him.  Yes, she was terrified that Wyatt would betray a hope for Jessica’s return, but at least, then, she would’ve known how he felt.  Hadn’t she asked him before the Salem mission what he would do if she came back?  Didn’t she tell him then that they needed to have a discussion about this very thing?  But as it turns out, talking in hypotheticals is a hell of a lot easier than talking in absolutes. With the actual threat of Jessica’s return looming over her like a dark shadow, Lucy had lost her courage, pushed Wyatt away, and confided in Flynn.

 

How on Earth was Wyatt ever going to forgive her for that?

 

Sighing heavily, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and made her way down the hall in search of him, hoping against all hope that he would understand.   

 

She found him brooding by the kitchen sink, glaring at Flynn who was sitting in his regular nook, nonchalantly reading a novel.  Lucy approached him tentatively under the guise of making herself a cup of tea. She cast wary glances at him as she heated her kettle, finally muttering softly, “Listen, Wyatt…I know you’re worried about me, but you don’t have to be.”  Wyatt flinched as if he were burned, causing Lucy to continue anxiously “This is…” Lucy bit her lip in thought trying to decide what would help dispel his fears when she saw Flynn move out of the corner of her eye, “a scare tactic.” she murmured, remembering what Flynn had told her to ease her own fears. “That’s it…it’s just another one of their manipulations.”

 

“The hell it is, Lucy.” Wyatt gritted back, his eyes still focused on Garcia Flynn. 

 

Noticing his line of sight, Lucy steeled herself and decided to address the tall, Croatian elephant in the room, “Wyatt…about last night…nothing...nothing happened.” she explained in a pleading voice, “Flynn and I…we just talked…that’s all.”

 

Wyatt scoffed, not looking at her, “So, you can talk to Flynn but you can’t talk to me?” 

 

Wyatt may not have been looking at her, but the bitterness with which he asked that question drove into Lucy like a knife.  She had no defense, really, for what she had done.  Wyatt had saved her from the clutches of Rittenhouse, raided the compound with literal guns blaring, had been nothing but kind and patient…and she had coldly brushed him away.  He had done nothing to deserve such treatment from her.   Lucy stood next to him, shame-faced and repentant, hardly knowing what to say. “Wyatt…” she stammered out, “I didn’t mean to…”

 

The sound of the alarm prevented any further discussion, however, and Lucy found herself looking at an empty space where Wyatt had been as he rushed forward to find out what the next mission entailed.   

 

“What is it?” he almost demanded of Rufus as he approached the control deck.    

 

“Um…March 4, 1919…New York.” Rufus reported with a look towards Lucy who was slowly making her way towards the rest of the team, “Got any idea what that’s about?”

 

Lucy clenched her eyes shut in thought, cursing Rittenhouse’s timing. “Um…well, that was Woodrow Wilson’s last day in the United States before travelling to Paris to negotiate the Treaty of Versailles.” she offered, “but, as far as an event…”

 

“So, you think Wilson might be the target?” Agent Christopher asked.

 

“Could be.” Lucy said with a shrug and a shake of her head, “The Treaty of Versailles basically reorganized the whole world after the first World War.  Empires were broken up, colonial holdings were diminished, nation’s borders were redrawn…Germany was forced to pay reparations for the war and they lost a lot of land…it really set the stage for Hitler’s rise to power.”

 

“So…this is a good thing?” Rufus asked blankly.  “Because from where I’m sitting maybe it’s not such a bad idea to stop the Treaty that gave us Hitler.”

 

“I don’t know, Rufus.” Lucy said desperately, “It could be anything…it could have nothing to do with Wilson at all...”

 

“It could be a ploy to get to you.” Wyatt muttered, his arms still folded firmly across his chest. “Agent Christopher just told us Rittenhouse’s number one objective is to eliminate you…what better way than to have you scrambling around in New York on some wild goose chase.” 

 

The entire team looked at Lucy with rapt concern.  She shifted uncomfortably under the tension and the heat of Wyatt’s pointed gaze. “Um…what’s this now?” Rufus asked as he looked between Wyatt and Lucy. 

 

“We don’t know that this is a wild goose chase.” Lucy countered, “And it doesn’t change anything.” Lucy explained to Rufus casting a wary eye to Wyatt.  “All of our lives are at risk every time we go out on these missions.”  She swallowed thickly, before maintaining firmly, “I’m not hiding.”

 

“That’s the spirit Lucy.” Flynn observed as he closed his book with a snap and made his way over to the huddled team.  “Show them what you’re made of and all of that.”

 

“Who the hell asked you?” Wyatt growled. 

 

“Nobody asked me.” Flynn said with a frown, “I just thought I’d remark on Lucy’s bravery.  As I said before, she’s tougher than she looks.”

 

While grateful for Flynn’s support on her behalf, Lucy inwardly groaned at his interference. Wyatt was already angry that Lucy not only slept in Flynn’s room but had talked with him too…having Flynn come to bat for her defense against Wyatt’s pleas that she stay hidden and protected in the bunker? 

 

That was not going to go over well.     

 

“This isn’t a question of being tough” Wyatt spat back.  “Lucy has a target on her back and we need to stop pretending that Rittenhouse won’t put their money where their mouth is.  If they get the chance,” Wyatt argued passionately, “they will kill her.” 

 

“Well, then I guess it’s up to you to make sure that doesn’t happen” quipped Flynn with a smug smirk. “That’s your job, isn’t it?  To eliminate Rittenhouse?”  He chuckled darkly, “And yet even after raiding their Headquarters, you still managed to let them get away.”

 

Wyatt stood there seething at Flynn.  Yes, he had allowed Emma and Carol Preston to escape, but he had to in order to protect Lucy…and he would make that same damn call again with no regrets. “My objective was to bring Lucy home safely…after _you_ let those assholes take off with her in ’34.”

 

“Wyatt…” Lucy interrupted gently.  “Flynn didn’t know…” but one pain-filled look from Wyatt made her wish she hadn’t said anything at all. 

 

Wyatt, in fact, was hurt. Hurt, stunned and upset that she defended Flynn…and yet said nothing when Flynn had accused him of allowing Rittenhouse to escape. Agent Christopher’s words the night of the raid came back to haunt him as he stood there staring at her, _Your relationship may be the problem here.  Perhaps Lucy is distancing herself from you for the good of the team._

 

Could that really be the reason?  The reason he felt like she was slipping away from him?  Did Lucy really think that their relationship had compromised them both so much that it was now a danger to them and everyone?  Or was there something else going on? 

 

“Well, at any rate” Agent Christopher said with a warning glance between the two men, “Seeing that Mr. Carlin tells me we are now capable of sending four people on these missions,” Rufus nodded his head solemnly, “the two of you will be able to work together to see that Ms. Preston comes back to us safely.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” exclaimed Wyatt, “are you telling me that we have to take Flynn?”

 

“Why not?” Agent Christopher asked, “We’ve got four seats now and you can use the backup.”

 

“No, we’re good.” Wyatt spat out as he brushed roughly past Flynn, “we’re a team already, we’re the Beatles, we don’t need Yoko.”

 

“You do realize there were four members of the Beatles, right?” Flynn quipped back as Wyatt glared at him. 

 

“You are taking Flynn and that’s final, Wyatt.” Agent Christopher ordered. 

 

Flynn sneered as he made his way into the LifeBoat, looking every bit like the smug sonofabitch Wyatt always took him for.  Having Flynn stand in for him on missions was one thing…and hell, that had been hard enough to stomach, but to be forced to work hand in hand with the man who had literally sold them out to H.H. Holmes?  Hadn’t the four of them worked with Flynn once before and lived to regret it? Wyatt didn’t give a damn what Flynn did or did not do on these last couple missions, he was still a murdering psychopath as far as he was concerned. 

 

The problem was…he seemed to be the only one who remembered that. 

 

In one last attempt at pleading his case, Wyatt turned at the top of the stairs to argue, but Agent Christopher wasn’t interested in hearing anymore, “Flynn’s going, Wyatt.  End of discussion.”

 

Upon entering the Lifeboat, Wyatt was faced with the unpleasant sight of Flynn sitting next to Lucy. Whether or not she was happy with the arrangement was not so readily apparent as she refused to meet his eye, but at that point, Wyatt didn’t care.  So angry was he at the seating arrangements, he turned in his chair and absolutely refused to look at either one of them as they traveled 99 years into the past.

 

Once they landed in 1919, things were no better. Wyatt, unable to stand the sight of Flynn smirking at him while sitting next to Lucy, promptly unbuckled his harness and jumped out of the hatch without so much as a word to the rest of the team.  “All right, then” murmured Rufus as he clambered out after him. 

 

Lucy, feeling the full weight of the tensions and awkwardness, quickly undid her own harness with the sole purpose of chasing Wyatt down and smoothing the waters.  She was prevented from leaving the time machine, however, by Garcia Flynn who had gallantly held her back so that he could exit the LifeBoat before her, apparently to assist her on her way out.  From the smug look on Flynn’s face, however, Lucy knew his motivations were not so much chivalrous as they were mischievous.   

   

Wyatt, who despite his upset, had been standing by to help Lucy as he always did, didn’t even have a chance to lift an arm to help Lucy, before Flynn stepped in front of him and took her hand.  Seeing this, Wyatt huffed out an angry breath and stalked away.   

 

“Stop it.” she hissed as he assisted her down from the time machine.    

 

Flynn frowned as she tumbled to the ground, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lucy.  I was just trying to be helpful.”   

 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Lucy gritted out, “Things are already awkward enough as it is.”

 

“That’s Wyatt’s problem,” Flynn drawled out lazily, “he should trust you.  You’re a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions, aren’t you?”

 

Lucy stared hard at Flynn, “Of course, I am.”

 

Flynn shrugged, “Then that is something Wyatt is going to have to come to terms with….and if he has a problem with it, he can talk to you about it.  You did nothing wrong.”

 

Lucy scoffed.  Of course, she didn’t do anything wrong in talking with Flynn…but the issue was more complicated than that…wasn’t it? Flynn was, after all, the man who had tried to kill them countless times and Wyatt had good reason not to trust or like him. 

 

But Lucy had always seen the humanity in Flynn, even at his worst.  And whether Wyatt liked it or not, Flynn _had_ helped her with her anxiety over Jessica…and he had given her a bit more insight on the journal.  Flynn was right…Wyatt should have trusted her enough to know that she had her reasons for confiding in Flynn…and he certainly should never have suspected that anything else had happened between her and Flynn that night. 

 

There wasn’t enough vodka in the world to allow _that_ to happen.

 

“Let’s just get this mission over with, shall we?” Lucy snapped back as she brushed past him and followed quickly after Wyatt and Rufus. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay....for those of you reading the Torrent epilogue, you might have remembered I made a promise to update as soon as I updated this one....well, I'm not trying to cheat you. This chapter has been giving me FITS, I rewrote it several times and finally I cut it in half...because the last half is the biggest problem. 
> 
> SO....my promise still stands, you're just getting a quicker update with this one than you would have had i labored through that mess. I actually prefer it this way. It was getting too long and the narrative was getting lost, so confining it into two chapters instead of one, I think, helps with the flow. 
> 
> I really do apologize for how long this has taken to update. I am trying really hard to get this one finished so I can focus my attention on the Stranded AU I've got started. I hope you enjoy this update....there's a lot of angst right now...but I promise you, it will be worth it. At least, I think it is. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the changes that I made. I have a lot more surprises in store for you in the future that I hope you will like...some you may not...but as many of you know, I am a sucker for happy endings, so it will all work out in the end! 
> 
> I appreciate your reading and reviewing so much. It definitely fuels me through these tougher chapters...because some days the motivation to attack these stories just isn't there. So again, thank you for being my virtual cheerleaders!


	11. A Desperate Plea

Wyatt was not happy at all.

 

He had woken up that morning, concern for Lucy first in his mind, when he noticed that not only was she not lying in the bed beside him, the cool feel of the sheets meant that she hadn’t been there for quite some time.

 

He had hated tricking her with that damn decaf coffee, but all he wanted was for her to get a good night’s sleep...and well, it appeared to him that she hadn’t gotten it.  He surmised that maybe she had gone out to the common room to watch some late-night television in an attempt to quiet whatever troubles were brewing in her mind.  He had hoped that maybe she had mercifully fallen asleep on the couch.

 

He never in a million years would have believed that Lucy had actually spent the night in Flynn’s room, if he hadn’t seen it with his own damn eyes. 

 

Seeing her emerge from that doorway, hearing Flynn’s deep chuckle as she made her escape, had brought painful memories to the forefront of his mind; memories that, until that moment, had been long forgotten and buried beneath a mountain of guilt and regret. 

 

He had been away for almost a year.  An extremely dangerous mission to the Kandahar region of Afghanistan had forced him to go radio silent on his communications back home.  On the rare occasions such calls were permissible, there was not much he could talk about, not much he could say that would allay any fears that Jessica might have had in regards to his safety…and she wasn’t happy about that. 

 

He just didn’t realize how unhappy.

 

Coming home a whole month earlier than he had expected, he was hoping to surprise her…and hell, did he ever surprise her.

 

He didn’t get the asshole’s name…but he never forgot his face. 

 

“What do you think, Wyatt?” Rufus’ voice called him out his dark thoughts. He looked away from the approaching figures of Flynn and Lucy and back towards Rufus who was currently holding a few suits and one dress for Lucy.  “You think these will work?” Rufus asked again. 

 

“Sure, whatever.” Wyatt said gruffly as he took a pro-offered suit from Rufus’ hand.

 

Rufus eyed him warily as he made his way towards an abandoned warehouse to change, “Hey, Wyatt?” he called softly.  “You know…I’m not a huge fan of Flynn coming along on these missions either, but…”

 

Wyatt didn’t wait for Rufus to finish.  Instead, he shook his head and entered the warehouse in search of a place to change. He felt oddly outnumbered.  His team was somehow not his team anymore…ever since Garcia Flynn infiltrated their lives via the bunker, things began to shift. Lucy and Rufus might be easily swayed by Flynn’s charm, but Wyatt could never forget what that man had done to all three of them.  He had seen no real acts of heroism from Flynn.  Mason was the one who saved the day in 1936.  Lucy had been kidnapped in 1934…and sure, he got Rufus out alive, but he couldn’t exactly leave the pilot behind, now could he?  

 

Despite everyone else’s short-term memories, Wyatt got the distinct impression that Flynn was up to something and he didn’t like it one damn bit.  

 

Wyatt found a small room off the main warehouse floor that offered enough privacy in which to change. He was grateful for a quiet moment alone away from reminders of how upside down everything had become.  He did not want to think about Flynn, Lucy…any of it.  The sound of Lucy’s voice and the low rumble of Flynn speaking with Rufus, however, set his blood boiling all over again. 

 

Lucy had told him nothing had happened, but dammit, something _had_ happened.  She had talked with Flynn and Wyatt for the life of him couldn’t understand how Lucy could trust that sonofabitch over him. How many times had he practically begged her to confide in him since he had delivered her out of her mother’s clutches? How many times had he tried to get her to talk to him about what was bothering her?

 

With Jessica, he understood. His absence had driven her into someone else’s arms.  With Lucy…he was there, dammit.  What the hell had he done wrong this time?    

 

He had just begun buttoning up his heavily starched shirt when Lucy herself burst through the door of the room he had staked out as his own personal changing area.  “Oh.” she breathed out abruptly, “I didn’t realize…I…”

 

Wyatt quickly finished buttoning up his shirt before grabbing his suit coat and nodding to her tersely as he exited, “The room’s all yours.” he muttered quietly. 

 

Brushing past her, he felt a pang in his heart that just about threatened to overwhelm him.  She meant the world and more to him…more than even she knew…and that was why he wasn’t mad at her for sleeping in Flynn’s room. He wasn’t happy about it – that was for damn sure – but he also knew Lucy, and he trusted her enough to know that when she said nothing like that happened…it didn’t happen. 

 

No. He wasn’t mad at her at all.  He was scared…and frustrated as hell. 

 

That night when he had stormed into Rittenhouse HQ, she had resisted him…she all but refused to come with him.  Why? He knew her mother had tried to manipulate her in Salem, tried to convince her that Wyatt couldn’t be trusted…so was it so hard to believe that she would pick up where she had left off in 1692?  Obviously, something had happened to Lucy in there…something that adversely affected their relationship…and he was pretty damn sure her mother was behind it all.

 

He thought that by getting her the hell away from that warehouse, from her mother…that things would be different.  He thought that coming back to the bunker, with him by her side, Lucy would feel at ease enough to open up to him about what she had suffered. The change of scenery, however, didn’t do her any good.  She was closed off, aloof, distant…more so than she had been after the first time she had been a Rittenhouse prisoner. 

 

Jiya had told him how she would lie awake every night and stare at the ceiling…and while she was hesitant to open up to Wyatt then, little things would come out. Eventually, she talked to him about the disillusionment she had with her mother, the man she killed to prove her loyalty, the way she cried in his arms when she thought she had lost everything…

 

Wyatt understood that feeling. 

 

That night by Hedy’s pool, he was trying to tell her…but the words wouldn’t come.  Well, words came…but not the ones he wanted to say. So instead, he tried to show her that he meant what he said that day, _she hadn’t lost him_.   Lucy was the one who had saved him, after all.  She was the whole reason his life began to have meaning again.  He had wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, but he was no wordsmith…hell, he called her “not hideous.” How she ever overlooked that pitiful attempt at flattery was beyond him.  He knew she was having doubts about his commitment to her…knew she had been worried about his guilt-driven attempts to save Jessica, and like a damn fool, he still didn’t say anything to assure her of his devotion.

 

He tried, instead, to show her.   

 

But it hadn’t been enough. She had pushed him away…and instead, found solace, comfort and a confidant in Garcia Flynn. 

 

And if that wasn’t enough to drive him to the point of utter madness, now she had a target on her back and instead of taking stock of what her loss might mean to him, she insisted on putting herself in harm’s way.  He saw it in her eyes during that conversation with Agent Christopher, that same recklessness that defined his existence for so long after Jessica’s murder.

 

She had stopped caring. 

 

He wanted to save her like she had saved him.  He wanted to be the reason she had for waking up every morning…just as she was for him…but she wouldn’t let him. 

 

And he didn’t know why. 

 

“All finished” Lucy announced as she stepped out of the warehouse.  She cast a wary eye towards Wyatt who, only met her gaze for a moment before dropping his own and shifting away, determined that now more than ever, he needed to keep his emotions in check.  If Lucy was a target, they were all of them going to have to be more diligent than they had ever been to make sure she got home safely. 

 

“What’s the plan?” asked Rufus.

 

“Well,” sighed Lucy, “Wilson is staying at the Copley Plaza Hotel…I guess we start there?”

 

                                                            ********************  

 

Despite Lucy’s repeated protests and insistence that she be treated just as she was on any other mission, Rufus and Flynn could not argue with the logic in Wyatt’s argument that if Lucy was a target, she should not be unnecessarily exposed.   Therefore, he insisted that they walk in a huddle; Wyatt and Flynn flanking Lucy on both sides, while Rufus took position behind the group.  

 

Lucy however, found the whole thing to be completely ridiculous, “I don’t think that they’re going to murder me in the middle of a crowded street in New York.” she mumbled as they made their way out onto the crowded New York avenue. 

 

“You may not like it, Lucy but if you insist on putting yourself in danger by coming on these missions, then I’m going to insist on being on someone being on your six the entire time.” Wyatt countered with a huff.   “You know how these people operate, they don’t give a damn where you are.”

 

“It’s true.” Rufus quipped, ignoring Lucy’s sigh of exasperation.  “Hell, a sleeper nearly killed me and Robert Johnson in 1936.”

 

“Is that when Mason saved the day?” Lucy asked as they paused and waited for a street car to pass. 

 

“Yeah…he didn’t even hesitate, he just…bam!” Rufus mimed as he chuckled to himself, “Hey, wait a minute,” Rufus asked with a pause, “how did you know about that?  I only talked to Wy…oh, never mind, of course he told you.”

 

Casually rocking back and forth on his heels whistling to himself, Rufus was completely oblivious to the fact that his supposition about where Lucy had been supplied with that information was completely and totally false.  Naturally Rufus would have assumed that Wyatt would have shared that harrowing tale with her, but the fact that he didn’t made the situation all the more awkward. She could feel a flush of shame rise on her cheeks as Wyatt visibly tensed beside her, looking every bit as angry as he had earlier that morning. “Wyatt…” Lucy began, but he shook his head and tugged her along down the street the moment the streetcar clanged away.  

 

She was desperate to talk to him, desperate to make him understand, and while she knew the mission was no place for such a conversation, she couldn’t help but feel frustrated that Wyatt would not listen.

 

They entered the hotel lobby where there were scores of reporters and citizens hoping to catch a glimpse of the President before he returned to Europe to help negotiate the terms of a treaty that would completely reorganize the world.  The size of the crowd and the layout of the room made Wyatt nervous.  He drew closer to Lucy as he scanned the crowd looking for anyone who might be a potential threat, determined to keep her safe at any cost.  When the distinct sound of a gunshot sounded over the already noisy sounds from the lobby, Wyatt gripped Lucy’s arm and pulled her over to a column for cover. 

 

“Are we too late?” Lucy breathed out to Wyatt who was scanning the crowd like a hawk.  “That was a gunshot, right?”

 

“Yeah…that was a gunshot, alright.” Wyatt replied stoically, still scanning the crowd.  Policeman were rushing towards the sound, men and women were scattering here and there, yet from what Wyatt could see there was no immediate threat to them in the lobby. 

 

They watched and waited at the scene until a figure was brought down by a group of policemen, laid out on a crude stretcher, covered in a blanket that was stained with blood. Taking a steadying breath Lucy stepped forward past Wyatt, who grabbed her arm with a hiss, “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“I’m going to find out what happened.” Lucy remarked somewhat irritably, “Just like I would on any other mission.”  She tugged her arm out of his grasp and made her way over to a nearby police officer, “Excuse me officer, can you tell me what happened?  Was President Wilson shot?”

 

“Sir,” the policeman drawled lazily to Flynn who was standing nearby, “please, control your wife.” 

 

“Sorry.” Flynn apologized, with a slight smirk towards a seething Wyatt.  Lucy, doing her best to dispel the already awkward situation, flushed but otherwise pretended that she hadn’t heard.  Instead, she turned her attention immediately to a reporter standing just opposite them in the lobby.

 

“Do you know who was shot?” she asked him breathlessly as he scribbled in his notebook. 

 

“Senator Wadsworth.” he responded immediately without giving her so much as a glance. “Bullet to the head. They’ve already arrested some militant suffragette for his murder.  Alice Paul.”

 

“Alice Paul?” Lucy gasped out in disbelief.  “No…no…that’s…that’s not right.”

 

“Who’s Alice Paul?” Rufus asked in bewilderment. 

 

“Alice Paul,” Lucy stated indignantly, “is one of the most influential women in American history. She led the Suffragette movement, I mean, she’s a big reason the 19thamendment is passed.  She’ll lead the National Women’s Party for the next 50 years.”

 

“So, the sleeper shot Wadsworth and framed her?” Wyatt asked as he continued to scan the crowd.

 

“It appears so.” Lucy sighed as she bit her lip in thought.  “But why?” 

 

“This Wadsworth guy,” Rufus quipped, “is he important to history?”

 

“No…” Lucy muttered thoughtfully, “but Alice is…and when President Wilson comes back to the hotel this afternoon, Alice is supposed to give a speech.  That speech changes his mind on the whole suffrage movement.”

 

“Sounds like we need to get Alice out of jail then.” Wyatt remarked, “Lucy and I will head to the police station.  Rufus, you and Flynn try to find those sleepers.”

 

“Don’t I get a say so in this?” Rufus asked with a groan.  “I’ve already been with Flynn on two missions already.”

 

“Yes.” Flynn observed in exasperation, “and if you failed to notice, you’re still alive.”

 

Casting a sidelong glance to Flynn, Wyatt huffed quietly to Rufus, “You know Lucy’s a damn target right now.  You think I’m going to trust her safety with Flynn?”

 

“Wyatt…” Lucy began but Flynn interrupted, “Why not?” he retorted with a chuckle, “she’s my _wife_ , after all.”

 

Though the lobby was abuzz with excitement from the numberless reporters, policeman and guests still clambering around the area looking for information on the murder of Senator Wadsworth, an uneasy, tense silence descended all around the gathered foursome, drowning out every other possible sound as Wyatt Logan stared daggers at Garcia Flynn.

  

Lucy, irritated by Flynn’s attempt at a joke, particularly when Wyatt was in such a bad mood as it was, rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath before stating testily, “Really? Can we just please…”

 

“What’s the matter, Wyatt?” Flynn asked, “can’t take a little joke?

 

“Flynn!” Lucy gritted out.

Wyatt, however, was already huffing out a response, “Just stay the hell away from her.”

 

“Wyatt!” Lucy exclaimed, but once again, neither of the men paid her any mind.

 

“Who?” Flynn asked innocently, “Lucy?” Flynn leaned forward, “You know…she’s not _your wife_ , right?”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Wyatt gritted out angrily. 

 

“You know what?” Rufus quipped in an attempt to dispel the tension, “I’m good.” He nodded towards Lucy, “You two go right ahead, I’m fine taking this mission with Flynn…good luck with Alice Paul.”

 

“I was merely making the observation,” stated Flynn matter of factly, ignoring Rufus’ suggestion, “that Lucy is perfectly capable of making her own decisions and you…well, if you have a problem with that then I suggest you take it up with her.”

 

“Will you two just stop it?” Lucy gritted out. “We have a job to do…and I suggest we do that job instead of standing around here fighting like a couple of school yard bullies.

 

“Fine.” Wyatt gritted out in anger as his eyes darted between Lucy and Flynn, “She trusts you more than she trusts me, anyway.” He turned roughly on his heel, calling over his shoulder as he made his way to the elevators, “C’mon Rufus…let’s get the hell out of here.”

 

“Wyatt!” Lucy gasped out in horrified exasperation.  The full shame of what she had almost single-handed done to her and Wyatt’s relationship hit Lucy full-force as she watched him stalk away from her. Rounding on Flynn, her face flushed with embarrassment and anger, Lucy spat out, “What the hell are you doing? Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?”  She shook her head as she began to make her way over towards where Wyatt had disappeared, “I need to talk to him…”

 

“He’ll be fine.  Flynn grunted as he gently pulled Lucy towards the hotel entrance, “You can talk to him back at the bunker - we have a job to do, don’t we?” 

 

Reluctantly, Lucy allowed herself to be almost dragged out of the hotel by Flynn who, despite Wyatt’s earlier observation, seemed very keen on watching out for any danger that could possibly come their way.

 

“You know, you don’t have to walk that close.” muttered Lucy angrily as Flynn grasped onto her elbow once more after she yanked it from his grasp.  “I am perfectly capable of walking down a street without assistance.”

 

Flynn pursed his lips together in exasperation, “Well, I can’t afford to let anything happen to you, now can I?  What would Wyatt say?”

 

“Oh, you suddenly care about what Wyatt thinks?” Lucy spat out. “Because back there at the hotel all you did was make a bad situation worse.” 

 

“I made a joke.” Flynn sighed in exasperation.  “Wyatt chose to take it…”

 

“Don’t give me that. You knew he wouldn’t like what you said. So, why do it?  Huh?” Lucy demanded.  “You know what?  Never mind. We don’t have time for this…” Lucy muttered as she stepped off the curb, only to be pulled back by Flynn as a street car clanged by.  Looking slightly abashed, but still angry at the whole situation, Lucy bit her lip in frustration before mumbling a quiet, “Thanks” to Flynn and moving swiftly across the now clear street. 

 

They made their way to the police precinct in almost total silence after that; Lucy grimacing every time Flynn got a little too near and Flynn doing his best to keep up with Lucy’s ever increasing pace.

 

Once inside, they made their way over to the administrative desk.  Lucy stood at the counter for a long while, clearing her throat and tapping her fingers impatiently on the counter, but the police officer on duty refused to look up or even acknowledge her presence.  Noting this, Flynn raised his eyebrows and stepped forward, which earned him an immediate response.  “Can I help you, sir?” the officer asked. 

 

Ignoring Lucy’s eye roll and sigh of exasperation, Flynn nodded pleasantly, “Yes, we’re here to see Alice Paul.  We’re…uh…her lawyers.”

 

“She didn’t ask for an attorney.” the police officer muttered before glancing back down at his paper.

 

“She’s innocent.” Lucy appealed as she stepped forward anxiously. 

 

Appearing to have gotten his attention with that statement, the police officer looked up from his paper, clearly amused.  “They found the gun in her room.  It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that one.”

 

“Sherlock Holmes.” Lucy muttered to herself before gasping and calling out to Flynn’s surprise, “Is Grace Humiston here today?”  The police officer grunted in reply, causing Lucy to bristle slightly before clearing her throat forcefully, “Excuse me?  Grace Humiston?  Is she here?”

 

The police officer sighed and looked up at Lucy in exasperation, “I don’t know.  She uses the visitor’s room down the hall sometimes.”

 

Lucy nodded her head eagerly and motioned for Flynn to follow her, “Who is Grace Humiston?” he asked as they made their way through the crowded police station. 

 

“She was a brilliant lawyer and investigator the NYPD would use to help them solve crimes they couldn’t crack or set aside…missing women mostly.” Lucy explained.  “I imagine she would have been a police officer if it hadn’t been 1919.  You know they actually called her Mrs. Sherlock Holmes?”

 

A feeling of anxious excitement filled Lucy as she approached the make shift office of a woman she had only read about.  Flynn smirked at her as she took a steadying breath and entered the small, but comfortable room, standing a bit in awe of the plain looking woman standing over a table. “Mrs Humiston?” she breathed out in veneration. 

 

“I don’t take romantic disputes.  If you want my advice, you have better things to do than to waste your time on a married man.” Grace Humiston said abruptly before turning back to her work. 

 

Lucy startled back in confusion and…if she were being quite honest, irritation since her being _involved_ with Flynn seemed to be a running gag on this mission.  “Wh…we’re not…no…why would you think that?” she stammered out. 

 

Grace Humiston sighed as she looked at the two of them doubtfully, “He’s wearing a wedding ring, you are not.  She’s trying to keep her distance from you, but you keep moving closer.” She smirked at Lucy as she added, “I’m betting he didn’t tell you about the wife, but that one’s just a guess.”

 

Flynn gaped at her slightly, “Actually, my wife is dead.”

 

Grace Humiston, however, paid him no heed.  Instead, she continued to address Lucy, “Your keen intellect I deduced from the fact that you came here looking for me.  You must read the papers.”

 

“I do.” Lucy said proudly. “And that’s why I’m here…”

 

 

                                                                                            *********************

 

Almost immediately after leaving Lucy in the lobby with Garcia Flynn, Wyatt regretted it.  He had just stepped into the elevator with Rufus when he was hit with a surge of guilt that had him impatiently bobbing up and down on his heels until the bellhop opened the caged doors to the next floor and he made a desperate break for it, leaving a confused Rufus trailing behind him, “Um…Wyatt?” Rufus asked as he jogged to keep up with him, “This isn’t our floor.”

 

“I realize that Rufus.” Wyatt muttered as he raced towards the staircase, “I need to go find Lucy.”

 

Rufus let out a small chuckle, “You think she really wants to talk to you?  No offense man, but you were kind of an ass.  Besides, I’m sure she and Flynn are halfway to the police station by now.”

 

Wyatt, however, wasn’t in the mood to entertain the possibility of Lucy…Lucy, who had a target on her back, running around New York City with only Flynn for protection when a Rittenhouse sleeper was on the loose.  He raced down the stairs, leaving Rufus once again, huffing after him.  When he finally re-emerged in the lobby he found, much to his panic and disappointment, that Lucy was gone.  

 

Wyatt felt as if the floor had dropped out from beneath him and he was falling into an endless abyss of guilt and regret. 

 

It was happening again. 

 

When they had run into that asshole at the Pelican Lounge that night, Wyatt had let his pride get the better of him, just as he had done this morning with Garcia Flynn.  The fight in the bar was nothing to the fight in the car ride on the way home….and Jessica had had enough.  Demanding to be let out of the car, Wyatt pulled over to oblige her, thinking her insistence to be let out of the car was just a bluff. Their fight continued on the side of that damn road until, Wyatt, frustrated and angry, drove off and left Jessica alone, to fend for herself… 

 

He had lived for six damn years with the guilt and regret of that night…and here, even though he knew that Lucy was a target, he let her go…

 

“She’s gone.” Wyatt breathed out helplessly. 

 

“I told you.” Rufus gasped out behind him, “Lucy is not one to waste any time on these missions.” Wyatt was ready to race out of the hotel and track the two of them down, but Rufus, seeing the determination and fear in Wyatt’s face reasoned with him, “Look, Wyatt…I know it’s Flynn…but what would he gain by letting something happen to her?  She’s the only one of us who is actually somewhat nice to the guy.”

 

“I hope you’re right, Rufus.” Wyatt gritted out through clenched teeth, remembering all too well the outcome from the last time Flynn had been tasked with Lucy’s safety.

 

Rufus, seeming to understand Wyatt’s hesitancy, continued, “This isn’t like the last time.”

Wyatt stared back at Rufus, unsure of whether he meant Jessica or Lucy until he added, “They’re going to a damn police station, Wyatt.  Rittenhouse would be crazy to touch her when she’s surrounded by cops.”

 

“What if the sleeper is a cop?” Wyatt spat out.  “Just like that sleeper in ’34 was a damn teacher?”

 

Rufus, seeing the fault in his argument, conceded, “Okay, say you’re right and the sleeper is a cop…you think that they’re going to make a move against Lucy inside the actual police station?”  Rufus shook his head, “They may be bold…but I can’t believe they’d be that bold.”

 

“Believe it.” a familiar voice rang out causing both Wyatt and Rufus to spin around in alarm.  The sight of Emma Whitmore leaning casually against a column had Wyatt reaching for his gun, but Emma threw up her hands in mock surrender, “I’m not here to fight.”  She chuckled, “If I was, you’d already be dead.”

 

“What the hell do you want?” Wyatt spat out his hand still resting on the grip of his still holstered weapon. 

 

“Would you believe me if I told you I was here to help you?” Emma asked as she took a step away from the column. 

 

“No.” Wyatt and Rufus said in unison. 

 

Again, Emma chuckled. “Can’t say that I blame you…but I’m serious…this mission only, I actually want to stop Rittenhouse.”

 

“And what makes you think we’re stupid enough to believe you?” Wyatt asked, still not moving his hand away from his holster. 

 

Emma looked at him thoughtfully, “I thought you’d be with the Princess?  Hope you two didn’t have a fight.  _That_ would be extremely unfortunate.”

 

“And what the hell do you mean by that?” Wyatt gritted out, panic slightly rising in his chest.

 

“Nothing.” Emma said with a slight frown, “but if you want to make sure she survives this mission, you’d better take me up on my offer to help you.”   Wyatt and Rufus exchanged dark looks as Emma stood apart from them, smiling smugly.  “Going once…twice…”

 

She turned on her heel and began to walk away as Wyatt’s voice called her back, “Wait…

 

Emma turned back around, a victorious grin plastered across her face, “I thought that might make you see reason.” she observed silkily, “Follow me, boys…it’s time we had a little chat.”

 

Emma brushed past them and began making her way down a back corridor with Rufus and Wyatt following her tentatively.  Rufus looked around nervously before whispering harshly to Wyatt, “You do realize you just teamed us up with Emma?”

 

“If she’s offering information up about this sleeper, then I’m going to hear what she has to say.” Wyatt argued, “Especially if it means saving Lucy.”

 

“Yeah…but why would she want to help Lucy?  Didn’t she _just_ try to kill her?” Rufus countered.  “Why the 180?  Something isn’t right here…”

 

Wyatt agreed. Something wasn’t right.  There mere fact that Emma Whitmore came to them in the middle of a mission…after their apparent target was disposed of, to claim that she wanted to help them stop Rittenhouse?  That could only mean one thing…

 

“Senator Wadsworth wasn’t your target, was he?” Wyatt asked as they entered an empty store room. 

 

“Very good, Master Sergeant.” Emma praised, “you worked that one out all by yourself.”  Wyatt rolled his eyes at Emma’s insinuation, “maybe you don’t need your historian, after all.”

 

“What the hell is this about?” Wyatt gritted out.  “You told us you wanted to help, but why do I get the feeling you’re just stalling us? Who’s the real target?”

 

Emma sighed as she took a seat next to a grime covered window, “Nicholas wants to squash the 19thAmendment…I think it’s pretty obvious why I would disagree with him on that particular change to the timeline.”

 

“After all the crap you’ve pulled, all the people you’ve murdered… _that’s_ where you draw the line?” Rufus asked incredulously, “Constitutional law?”

 

Emma laughed, “Look at us…joking like old times, Rufus.”

 

“Yeah, I’m getting some crazy nostalgic vibes.” he muttered back sardonically.

 

“And where does Lucy fit into all of this?” Wyatt asked irritably.  “What’s this sleeper going to do?  Wadsworth is out of the way, Alice Paul is in jail…what, is she walking into a trap?  And why the hell would you care?”

 

“I told you.” Emma said simply, “I need her to make sure that speech is given today.” Emma stood up and brushed off her skirts, “Lucy should be discovering right about now that Alice Paul is dead.” 

 

“But wait,” Rufus exclaimed, “if Alice Paul is already dead, then you’ve already screwed with history…the 19thamendment is finished.”

 

“Not necessarily.” Emma countered with a small shake of her head, “Lucy may be annoying as hell, but one thing I have to admire her for, is her tenacity.  I‘m willing to bet good money that Lucy…”

 

“Lucy will make sure the speech is made…even if she has to do it herself.” Wyatt mumbled, almost to himself.  “So, that’s what this was about?  Lucy gives the speech and then you kill her?” Wyatt asked as he narrowed his eyes.

 

“That’s why I’m here, to make sure that doesn’t happen.” she said with a smirk. Emma shook her head.  “Do you honestly think the sleeper, who has been preparing for this mission for years would allow that speech to even take place?” She chuckled as she made her way to the door, “Lucy would be dead before she even made it to the front of the march.”  At Wyatt’s confused and panicked face, she nodded seriously, “The sleeper is a suffragette.”

 

Wyatt and Rufus exchanged looks, before Wyatt called out to Emma who was retreating back out into the hall, “Hey, where the hell are you going?  Aren’t you going to tell us which one it is?”

 

Emma tilted her head at them sadly, “And take away all your fun?  The march begins in ten minutes,  the suffragette office is just right around the corner.   I trust you boys will take care of things…besides, I have a pit stop to make on the way back home and believe me when I say...you don't want me to be late.  She nodded meaningfully at Wyatt as she continued with a wink, “You can thank me later.”

Wyatt watched her disappear into the hall in a state of confusion.  Emma Whitmore had just _helped_ them.  She could have just taken out the sleeper on her own, instead, she tipped them off.  Why? Surely it wasn’t just so Lucy could give this speech…that made absolutely no sense, considering she could have easily sprung Alice Paul from jail, taken out the sleeper and had history remain intact. 

 

No, instead, she had sought them out, killed Senator Wadsworth and Alice Paul, revealed Rittenhouse’s plan, and had done it all…seemingly, to protect Lucy.  It didn’t make sense at all. 

 

Wyatt, more desperate than ever before to find Lucy, stumbled into the hall after Emma, but she had already disappeared amid the throngs of hotel workers buzzing in and out of the different offices and pantries that lined the corridor.  Turning to Rufus, Wyatt gulped, “We need to get to Lucy, before that damn sleeper does.”

 

 

                                                                                                 **************

 

_Alice Paul is dead._

 

Though it was Lucy who made the grave announcement to the room full of anxious suffragette’s, she felt, as she watched their faces drop and heard their horrified gasps that she was living in a waking nightmare.  How could Alice Paul be dead?  How could her mother allow one of the most influential women in history to die?  How could she risk losing something as important as the 19thAmendment? 

 

She felt numb. 

 

Apart from the death of a woman whom she had always admired and revered, Lucy was struggling with the disillusionment that came from meeting Grace Humiston.  To Lucy’s astonishment, Grace was not a fan of the suffragette movement and made it a point, in the afternoon she had spent with her, to reiterate in not so many terms why she believed the push for suffrage was wrong. 

 

Yet now, ironically, she was calling for a vote…a vote to see whether the march that was so necessary for the 19thAmendment, should actually go forth.  To Lucy’s growing dread, the motion for the march to continue was struck down, replaced instead, by a silent vigil.

 

“No…this speech has to happen today.  The President is leaving the country tomorrow…” Lucy argued as Flynn stood off to the side watching the scene solemnly. 

 

“What difference does it make when the speech is given?” Grace Humiston asked huffily.  “I see no reason why today is so important.  So, the President is leaving the country…he’ll be back soon enough.  One day isn’t going to make much difference.”

 

Lucy rolled her eyes, “If you think that Alice can be reduced to one day and one speech, then you really have no idea what this is all about, do you?  You think because you are smart enough or tough enough to make it in the boys’ club that everybody else should be able to do that too, is that it?”

 

“Something like that.” Grace Humiston said with a satisfied nod.   

 

“So, you’re under no obligation to help women?” Lucy asked angrily. 

 

“I help women.” Grace countered defensively.  “I find the missing.  I catch their murderers, I put them away.  That’s how I help women.”

 

“Dead women, you mean?” Lucy snapped back.  “You help dead women.  What about everybody else?”  

 

“Everyone else isn’t my problem” Grace said simply. 

 

Lucy stared back at her disbelieving.  She had naively believed that Grace would understand, that she would, as a woman who had been cast aside time and time again, see what was at stake for the rest of womankind…but, no.   Grace Humiston, the woman Lucy had admired for years, the woman whom she was sure would be someone she could count on, turned out to be nothing more than a massive disappointment. 

 

“Lucy!”  Wyatt breathed out as he rushed into the building, scanning the room for any immediate danger, “there you are, Thank God.”

 

Grace raised her eyebrows in interest as Wyatt approached Lucy, his hand gently reaching out for her, beckoning her to follow him.  “Ah…I see I was wrong.  Doesn’t happen often, but I’m more than willing to admit my mistake.”  She nodded pleasantly at Wyatt, “And a soldier, to boot.”

 

Wyatt gaped at her, “Huh? How do y…Lucy, who is this?”

 

“Grace Humiston…also known as Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.” Lucy answered tersely as Rufus entered the building, fanning his hat in front of his face in an attempt to catch his breath.

 

Still clearly confused, Wyatt was just about to ask for clarification, when Grace explained, “You carry yourself as a soldier, always checking behind you and alert to any danger. You also are carrying a concealed weapon…not usual for your average citizen…and you are definitely not a cop.”

 

“Uh-huh.” Wyatt said with an awkward nod, “And what exactly were you wrong about?”

 

Grace opened her mouth to clarify, when Lucy interrupted her with a wary look towards Flynn, “It’s nothing.” The last thing she needed was for Wyatt to hear that yet another person supposed that she and Flynn were a couple. “What are you doing here, Wyatt?” Lucy asked in slight irritation. 

 

“I came here to get you.” Wyatt whispered harshly as he gently tugged on her elbow, “It’s not safe…I can’t explain now, “ he muttered as he shot a suspicious glance throughout the room, “but I promise I’ll explain everything when we get back.”

 

“I can’t leave.” Lucy argued as she wrenched her arm out of Wyatt’s grasp.  “Not yet…Alice Paul may be dead, but that doesn’t mean we can’t honor her memory by making sure her speech is heard by President Wilson.”

 

“Speeches and marches don’t change the world.  Never have, never will.  Alice’s problem was that she gave too many speeches.” Grace said simply.  “She did nothing but create hysteria.  I don’t know about you, but I’d rather earn my respect than grovel for it.”

 

“You think that Alice wanted to be beaten by the police, sent to prison…force fed?” Lucy exclaimed indignantly. 

 

“I didn’t say that…”Grace began.

 

Lucy fought back the tears as she pulled her arm out of Wyatt’s grasp once more before she continued, “She would have spent the next 50 years living the same Hell over and over again so women like you could ride on her coattails.  Every day that you get to do your job, another woman out there is making sacrifices so that you can keep doing it.”

 

“Lucy…this is not your fight.”  Wyatt pleaded as he cast his eyes about the room, growing ever more anxious.  “I need to get you out of here, now.”

 

Still, Lucy didn’t pay any attention to him.  She was breathing heavily and staring at the woman in front of her, a near stranger to Wyatt, looking very much like she had done in 1918 outside of the mothership, when she pleaded with her mother to be on the “right side of history.”

 

“I don’t understand.” Grace said with a laugh, “If the speech is so important, why don’t you give it?”

 

Lucy shook her head in disbelief and disappointment, clearly angry that her efforts were going unheeded by the women standing before her.  “Fine.” She spat out.  “If you’re not going to help Grace, then just get the hell out of my way.”   

 

“No! Lucy…you can’t do this.” Wyatt shouted after her as she brushed past him to the door.

 

“Watch me” Lucy scoffed as she pulled open the door and stepped outside onto the busy New York sidewalk.

 

Wyatt stood there, almost helpless as he watched her go, hardly noticing Flynn or Rufus as they gathered around him, waiting for their next move. 

 

“What’s the problem?” Flynn whispered more to Rufus than to Wyatt, “If the speech needs to be made today, then why not let Lucy give it?”

 

“Why the hell do you think, Flynn?” Wyatt gritted out as he wrenched open the door and ran down the street after her.

 

Panic almost overtook him as he emerged out onto the sidewalk and saw no sign of her.  Racing around the corner, he breathed out a sigh of relief as he saw her walking determinedly up the street, back towards the hotel, where President Wilson was set to arrive at any time. 

 

“Lucy!!” he called out desperately as he raced after her.  If Lucy heard him, she gave no indication…if anything, she picked up her pace, causing Wyatt to lengthen his stride in an effort to reach her before it was too late.   

 

“Lucy, listen to me.” Wyatt demanded as he caught up with her, “Rittenhouse wants to stop that speech. They’re going to kill whoever goes up there to give it.”

 

“Would it be better if it were someone else?” Lucy asked, not even stopping to look at him.  “This speech has to happen, Wyatt…and Alice Paul is dead.  You heard them in there, no one will take her place.  It has to be me.” 

 

“The hell it does.” Wyatt gritted out as he grasped her arm and turned her to face him.  “They need a leader, Lucy.  But they need a leader here…not someone who’s gonna jump in a time machine.”

 

“Someone has to do something now.” Lucy explained passionately.  “This is too important.”

 

“And so are you.” Wyatt gritted out through tears that were now forming in his eyes.  “Please, Lucy…I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

 

Lucy stared back at him, her own eyes flashing with tears of indignation as the full tumult of emotions she had been feeling that week hit her with a force that nearly caused her knees to give way.  Swaying slightly on the spot, she took a moment to compose herself before she let out a derisive laugh, “It’s a bit late for that.”

 

Wyatt flinched as if burned, “What’s that supposed to mean?  Lucy, I…”

 

Lucy clenched her eyes shut, “I mean, that you have no idea how much I’ve been hurt. The things I’ve gone through, the things my mother has done, the things she’s threatened...the things...I’m ashamed of.” she gasped out as tears began to form.

Wyatt bristled slightly, “I would if you’d just talk to me, Lucy.” he argued. “Hell, I’ve been trying...”

“I know you have, but I couldn’t talk to you, Wyatt.” Lucy gritted out. “And then, you wouldn’t let me explain…you automatically jumped to the conclusion that….” she scoffed, “I’ll admit, I made a mistake going to Flynn’s room last night, but _nothing_ happened.  I asked him about the journal, that’s all….and you…you...just assumed the worst.  How could you do that?”

 

“I was an ass…I know, Lucy and I’m sorry.” Wyatt said solemnly, “I don’t give a damn about Rittenhouse or Flynn…hell, you could have slept with him and it wouldn’t change the way I feel about you. Lucy, I don’t care about a damn thing, except you.”

 

Lucy shook her head at him sadly, “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to shut you out, Wyatt.  Talking with Flynn….it didn’t…”

 

“Lucy, it doesn’t matter.” Wyatt said with a sigh.  “I know I made a big deal about it this morning, but none of this shit matters.” He shook his dead ruefully, “All that matters is that you’re safe. That’s why I can’t...” Wyatt scoffed, “you have a target on your back, Lucy. How the hell am I supposed to sit by and watch you risk your life over...”

 

“You can’t protect me from everything, Wyatt.  Rittenhouse, my mother…any of it.” Lucy muttered back despondently, interrupting him. “This is the only way for me to fight against them…to do exactly what they don’t want me to do…to keep history intact.  If that means I die trying, then so be it.”

 

The recklessness Wyatt saw earlier that day was back full force, staring him in the face…and there was nothing he could do.  If he lost Lucy…

 

“No, Lucy…you are not the soldier here, I am.” Wyatt gritted out determinedly. 

 

“Wyatt,“ Lucy breathed out in exasperation, “we all take the same risks every time we step in that time machine.”  Wyatt shook his head at her, but Lucy remonstrated gently, “You can’t fight all the battles. It’s not fair to you.”

 

“I don’t give a damn about what’s fair, Lucy.” Wyatt maintained.  “I can’t lose you…

 

Lucy’s eyes darted to his as she smiled at him sadly, “I don’t want to lose you either, Wyatt…but I have to do this.  I can’t let them win…not this time.  I…I couldn’t live with myself.”

 

She turned once more, but Wyatt, more anxious than ever pulled her back to him, his hands gripping her arms like his life depended on it, “Lucy, you give that speech and they’re going to kill you…you may not care about that, but I sure the hell do.”  He cupped her face in his right hand and caressed her cheek with his thumb, his blue eyes searching out her brown ones with an intensity that took Lucy’s breath away.  He was near frantic as he desperately tried to communicate to her just how very much she meant to him.  “I love you, Lucy Preston” he admitted in a voice trembling with emotion, “I love you…and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna stand by and let you do this...not if it means losing you.”

 

Lucy gasped at his utterance, her knees quaking at the sheer force of Wyatt’s words.  “Wyatt…” she began but he silenced her protest with a desperate kiss, his right hand cupping her face while his left arm snaked around her waist to pull her closer to him.  Somewhere in the back of his head he knew that this type of display probably wasn’t permissible in the era they were currently in, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn.  If this is what it took to keep Lucy from being the reckless hothead he had once been, he would risk the wrath of public opinion.

 

Lucy pulled away from him, breathless and panting slightly as he still had her wrapped up in an tight embrace, his eyes searching hers, as if trying to see whether he had broken through the wall she had put up between them.  “Please, Lucy” he begged, “just stay with me.”

 

Lucy’s heart ached at the desperation is Wyatt’s voice.   He had already lost one woman he loved and she knew his fears about losing her were rooted in his past trauma. Caressing his face, Lucy offered him a gentle kiss on the lips before whispering her own admission, “I love you, Wyatt.”  She nodded as silent tears rans down her face, “I do...and I know that you’ll make sure nothing happens to me.”  Wyatt looked to argue with her, his face wrenched in agony, but Lucy continued on, “I trust you.  I always have and I always will.” She nodded at him desperately, “I have to do this, Wyatt. We have to do this.”

 

“Lucy…” he pleaded, but he knew it was no use.  Agent Christopher was right…he was compromised emotionally where Lucy was concerned.  He would willingly sacrifice the mission to keep her safe, but Lucy…as usual, was right. Sacrificing the mission…this mission…would have dire consequences for their present, a victory of epic proportions for Rittenhouse and that could not happen.  As much as he hated it, he was going to have to trust in his training and stand on the sidelines so that Lucy could do the job they were tasked to do. She was going to have to draw out the sleeper agent.  

 

Rufus and Flynn turned the corner and Lucy dropped her hands from Wyatt’s face, stepping back away from him slightly as the rest of their team approached.  The suffragettes were making their way down the street now, towards a large grouping of policeman right outside the Plaza hotel.  Lucy nodded at a deeply conflicted Wyatt, and turned to go before he called out to her, “Lucy, the sleeper agent is a suffragette…she could be any one of them.  We’ll keep an eye on you.  Just…be careful.”

 

Lucy nodded once more and joined the other women in the march, while Wyatt, after directing Flynn and Rufus to take varying positions on different sides of the street, followed along the parade route, his eyes never straying from Lucy and the women surrounding her. 

 

On the suffragettes moved until they approached the line of policeman and were stopped in their tracks. The crowd of women, who had been silent until that point, were roughly pushed back causing a tumultuous scene. Wyatt breathed out a curse as he stepped off the curb and into the crowd as the arrival of President Wilson’s car caused an even greater push back from the police force.  The women, determined to make a statement, surged forward, yelling in an attempt to catch Wilson’s attention and in that one collective effort, Wyatt lost sight of Lucy.

 

Dread filled him as he fought his way through the crowd, shouting her name when the sound of a gunshot nearly brought him to his knees. “LUCY!” he yelled over the din of screams, but as the crowd ducked and cleared a bit, he saw her trying to scramble on top of a make shift platform in an effort to catch President Wilson’s attention. Wyatt scanned the scene for any sign of the shooter and gave a breath of relief when he saw a policeman with his gun drawn and pointed in the air, obviously firing it in an attempt to disperse the marchers.

 

Not taking any chances, however, Wyatt desperately fought his way towards Lucy, ready to throw himself in front of the sleeper agent’s gun in an attempt to keep her safe.  That effort, however, turned out to be wholly unnecessary, for as he neared the small platform, he saw to his horror that Lucy had been wrenched down off the platform and was now being led away by a woman who had a gun jabbed into her ribs.

 

Shit.

 

Not daring to call out to her for fear the sleeper would murder her right then and there, Wyatt stalked behind them, gun drawn as he followed them into an alley where he heard the sleeper taunting Lucy snidely, “Any last words you’d like me to pass along to your mother?”

 

With a mixture of pride and unease, Wyatt noted that Lucy wasn’t cowering in the face of certain death. Instead, she looked defiantly back at the woman who was now holding her at gunpoint and spat out, “Tell her she can go to hell.”

 

Wyatt raised his own gun, taking careful aim as he called out, “That makes two of us.” 

 

Surprised by the sound of Wyatt’s voice, the sleeper turned abruptly to face him, only to fall victim to his deadly aim.  “You okay?” Wyatt asked as he holstered his gun.  Lucy nodded as he wrapped her up in an embrace .  “C’mon…let’s get out of here.”

 

Running out of the alley, Lucy scanned the crowd in horror, seeing marchers being beaten back by the police force and shoved back into the fray by standers-by on the sidewalk.  “Oh my God.” Lucy breathed out, “This is worse than I ever imagined it.”  Casting a nervous glance towards Wyatt, she pleaded, “I still have to do this, Wyatt.”

 

Wyatt nodded solemnly, “Let’s do it then.”  Gripping her hand, he led her through the crowd, shoving his way through, pulling her after him until they reached the same small precipice Lucy had attempted to climb once before.  Fights had broken out by this time the push back from the police force was far more intense as President Wilson emerged on the stairs. 

 

Lucy desperately sought to reach the top, screaming out, “Mr. President!  Mr. President!!” but to no avail.  He could not hear her over the screams from the crowd. 

 

Suddenly, however, a voice she recognized rang out above the din, “The time has come to allow women, all women, to have the voice they so greatly deserve!”  Lucy turned in shock to see Grace Humiston standing on a platform, addressing the crowd loudly, “How long can men expect to see their sisters, their mothers, their wives and their daughters to expect to accept less than what justice demands?  Women’s suffrage is inevitable!  The time is now!!!”

 

“She did it!”  Lucy gasped out in disbelief through a flood of tears.  “She did it.”

 

“I think you did it.” Wyatt corrected, his face beaming with pride.  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he held her close as he navigated them through the crowd to where he could see a bloodied Flynn and Rufus standing on the sidewalk.  “What the hell happened to you two?” Wyatt asked as he approached. 

 

“Cops.”  Rufus said simply, “Can we just get out of here?” Rufus gritted out as he nursed his arm, “I am in a ridiculous amount of pain right now.”

   

With his arm still draped around Lucy’s waist, Wyatt led the way back to the LifeBoat, taking care to help her up into the time machine before assisting an injured Rufus.  They had all settled into their respective seats, buckling themselves in when Lucy paused suddenly and asked, “How did you know the sleeper was a suffragette?”

 

“Oh, didn’t Wyatt tell you?” Rufus quipped as he readied the LifeBoat for launch, “Emma told us.”

 

Lucy sat back in surprise, “Emma?  You ran into Emma?”

 

“Yeah.” Wyatt muttered, “Believe it or not she told us she wanted to help us on this mission.  Didn’t agree with Rittenhouse’s plans to stop the 19thAmendment.”

 

Lucy raised her eyebrows, “Well, I guess it’s comforting to know even she has her limits.”

 

“That’s what I said.” Rufus stated.  “Still, it was weird, right?” he asked Wyatt.  “I mean, why go through the trouble of killing Alice Paul and that Wadsworth guy?  Why not just take out the sleeper and be done with it?”

 

“Maybe she wanted to kill me herself.” Lucy suggested with a shrug.  “I’m actually surprised she didn’t.” 

 

“No…she left.” Rufus said unconcernedly, “She said she had a pit stop to make on the way back home…” 

 

Lucy’s hands faltered on her safety harness as she looked up in concern, “What kind of pit stop?”

 

“She didn’t say.” Rufus shrugged.  “But…according to the nav computer, she made a jump to San Diego, 1980 for like an hour.”

 

Wyatt scoffed, “I guess that means we’re not going to have much time to relax after we get back. Gotta hand it to her, jumping while we’re already in the past…sly move.  But what the hell could she do in an hour?”

 

“Maybe she wanted to play the original Pac-Man in a honest to goodness arcade.” Rufus suggested, “That’s what I would do.”

 

Lucy’s eyes darted to Flynn’s in concern and confusion and Wyatt took notice, “You okay?” he asked tentatively.  “You look a little pale.”

 

Lucy nodded, shaking her fears away.  It was just a scare tactic…what could 1980 San Diego possibly have to do with _that_?  No…everything was fine.  They couldn’t bring her back by jumping 32 years before her murder. 

 

Could they?

 

When the LifeBoat landed in the present, Lucy did her best to undo her harness though her hands were shaking violently.  Wyatt, observing her, rested his own on hers, “Hey…I know it was a close call today…and I know I was an ass about it this morning…but you did good, Lucy.”  He kissed her hand and helped her with the rest of her safety straps, offering her his hand as he helped her out of her seat. 

 

As they descended the stairs together, Wyatt pressed a kiss to Lucy’s temple, his arm draped over her waist once again as he pulled her close to him.  Agent Christopher watched them as they descended the stairs and observed, “I see you two decided to make things official?”

 

Wyatt chuckled, “Because they weren’t official before?  Look, I know I was upset this morning…”

 

Agent Christopher narrowed his eyes at him, “Upset?  That’s a bit of an understatement wouldn’t you say?” She let out a derisive laugh as she closed the manila folder she had in her hands, “Wyatt, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so hurt…though, I think we were all a little shocked by the duplicity. I’m not usually one to promote infidelity, but in this case, I’d say you’ve made the right decision.  Just make sure you do the right thing, Wyatt.  Ms. Preston doesn’t deserve to be someone’s bit on the side.”

 

Lucy blanched as Wyatt looked back at Agent Christopher is confusion, “What the hell are you talking about?  Nothing happened between Lucy and Flynn…right, Lucy?” he asked, looking to her for confirmation.

 

Lucy nodded slowly, but swallowed hard hoping against all hope that her suppositions were completely wrong.  Agent Christopher, however, dashed those hopes to pieces as she crossed her arms over her chest and countered, “Lucy and Flynn?  What are you even talking about Wyatt?  I’m talking about you…”

 

“Me?” Wyatt asked defensively, ‘What…?”

 

“Oh my God.” Lucy sobbed as she raced towards their bedroom.  She couldn’t stand to hear it.  She couldn’t bear to see his face when the truth of what Emma had done came to light.  Instead she wrenched open their bedroom door seeing, with a gasp of horror, the horrible truth of their new situation. 

 

“Lucy?” Wyatt’s voice was calling her from the hall, but she was hardly aware of it.  Unable to move, she stared at the two cots shoved on separate sides of the room.  One side immaculately tidy; the other, littered with comic books, hoodies, and empty chocodile boxes.  She vaguely heard the door open behind her as Wyatt breathed out in confusion and alarm, “What the hell?  Lucy, what’s happening?  What is all this?”

 

Tears streamed down Lucy’s face as she turned to face him.  Unable to meet his eye, she hung her head in agony as she sobbed out, “Plan B.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're going to say..."Gretchen, this is the timeline WITHOUT JESSICA." Yes...it is...she's not in the bunker!!! I HAD To bring her back...and when this whole thing is over, you'l understand WHY. Believe me...I traveled down this rabbit hole before I began this fic and there was just no way around it that would make sense...and again, you'll understand WHY when this is all over...maybe some of you will already realize the why. 
> 
> But let's focus on the POSITIVE. Wyatt told Lucy he loved her....that's a BIG BIG DIFFERENCE. Wyatt also has realized on his own that he idealized his marriage, that things between him and Jessica weren't all sunshine and rainbows. THAT'S IMPORTANT TOO. So take calming breaths....it's going to be okay...and I PROMISE YOU this will fit in canonically. I promise you I have explored this THOROUGHLY. It's going to work out and everything we see in Miracle of Christmas will fit in here. 
> 
> The biggest issue I had was the WHEN because I needed both of the their memories to stay in tact. I ultimately chose to do it here because it BOTHERS me so much that Wyatt, Rufus and Flynn are all supposed to be watching Lucy and yet, she gets taken off into an alley and almost killed, and they are none the wiser. What the hell? So I changed it here and yes, I stole a bit of Grace's thunder, but that was more for flow than anything. So I had Emma just tip them off and go on her merry way, taunting Wyatt with a "You can thank me later" while he goes to save Lucy. 
> 
> I also realize that I split them up differently. I WASN'T originally going to do that, but I just felt like it needed more of a change than what we saw in the episode...and using the whole "Lucy is Flynn's wife" bit from canon sort of spurred me to make that decision, especially considering that the whole thing was a sore point for Wyatt in this fic even more so than it was in the actual show. I also thought it helped flow better, getting Wyatt's POV and Lucy's POV before having them converge.
> 
> I know this was a long chapter, but I did not want to split this one. I'm a little nervous about getting yelled at, so please be kind if you choose to review...but I hope that I have eased any fears you may have. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading.


	12. Plan B

Lucy sat alone in her room staring at the empty cot in front of her; the memory of Wyatt sitting there, full of concern and pity, weighing heavily on her mind and heart as she considered the promise he had made to her that day.  She was distraught then, as she was now…feeling like she had lost everything, but Wyatt had taken her up in his arms and promised, as he offered her a comforting embrace, that despite whatever she may have believed, she hadn’t lost him. 

 

How she wished that were still true. 

 

Everything she had feared had cruelly and suddenly come to pass.  Rittenhouse had brought Jessica back…and done it while she and Wyatt were trapped in the past.  Both of them now forced to remember and live with the pain and guilt that one could only feel from unwittingly engaging in what could only be deemed, from the scrutinizing looks of Agent Christopher, Mason and Jiya, as an extra-marital affair.    

 

How Wyatt was faring in all of this, she could only guess…though she imagined his guilt surmounted her own.  Jessica had been his lightning bolt, his reason for living…and yet he had, just hours before, declared his love to her…Lucy.  He was a man torn in two and while he may very well love her, the woman to whom he was bound not only had the benefit of a prior claim to his heart, she had been, for the past six years, his greatest regret.

 

In this particular battle, there was no competition.  Jessica would always be first and foremost in Wyatt’s heart and mind. 

 

Silent tears fell from her eyes as she recalled the look on his face when they had come back from 1919 to find that things were not as they left them.  Confused, he had followed her into what was once their shared bedroom, only to see, as she did, the tell-tale signs that whatever they were in this timeline, they were most certainly not a couple.  “What the hell is Plan B?” he had asked, unmistakable dread sounding in his voice. 

 

Lucy couldn’t bear to look him in the eye, the shame and agony of not only being relegated to “other woman” status, but knowing, as she did, that she had actively sought to keep Wyatt in the dark about a possible reunion with his beloved wife was enough to send her running from the scene of what she considered her many crimes…but as she left the privacy of the bedroom, she realized that there was no place she could really go.  The underground bunker was a cage and she was trapped.  The walls were closing in as she slunk down, helpless, onto the cold hard floor, her head cradled in her hands.

 

Wyatt was hot on her heels, determined to get answers.  Seeing her sitting on the floor in the hall, crying, caused the rising panic he had been feeling to hit tidal wave proportions.  “Lucy, what the hell is going on?” he demanded.  “What is Agent Christopher talking about?”

 

Lucy pursed her lips and cried bitterly.  “Jessica.” she finally gasped out.  “Jessica is alive.”  

 

Her words, though spoken in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper, seemed to reverberate off the metal walls and echo throughout the entire bunker.  They seemed to mock her as she sat there looking up with pitiful eyes at the one man she loved more than anything else in the world, but could no longer have. 

 

Not now that he was married.  

 

“No…that’s not possible…I tried…” Wyatt stammered as he backed away from her. 

 

Lucy shook her head sadly as she sobbed, “Rittenhouse…they must have found a way, after all…I didn’t think they could actually do it…but.”

 

“Wait a minute…you knew about this?” Wyatt accused in a harsh whisper.  “You knew…and you didn’t tell me?”  Wyatt shook his head in frustration and paced back and forth in front of her as he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, “Jesus, Lucy…how could you not tell me something like that?”

 

She was so ashamed of everything she had done, she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye as she answered softly, “I didn’t know how.”  At his derisive laugh she continued, “I wanted to, Wyatt.  I really did” she gasped, “but Fl…Flynn convinced me there was nothing to worry about…that it was j…just a scare tactic.” she explained, but a moment later, she wished that she had just kept that explanation to herself.

 

“Flynn?” Wyatt had stopped pacing and was staring at her as if she had just slapped him in the face. “You told Flynn that they were planning on bringing back my wife, but you couldn’t tell me?”  Lucy couldn’t meet his eye.  Instead, she leaned her head up against the wall and covered her eyes with her hand, too ashamed to even speak.   Wyatt, getting his confirmation with her silence, breathed out a curse and retreated down the hall, leaving Lucy all alone on the cold bunker floor.    

 

That had been nearly two hours ago…and Lucy, not daring to show her face to any other member of their team, least of all Wyatt, had retreated into the recesses of her old…but now, current room to reflect on all that she had lost.   

 

A soft knock on her door, however, had her wiping away the remnants of her tears and sitting up a bit straighter in both hopeful anticipation and mounting dread of who it might be.  “Come in.” she called out in a quavering voice, her hope increasing as she saw the door handle turn. 

 

That hope was dashed slightly as Jiya’s head appeared in the doorway, a sympathetic frown on her face, “You okay?” she asked as she eased into the room and stood awkwardly by the door. 

 

Unable to answer that question, Lucy merely shrugged and heaved a heavy sigh.   

 

“This must be really awful for you.” Jiya offered apologetically.  “I mean…to come back from a mission and find out…

 

“That I’m the other woman?” Lucy muttered despondently as she raised her eyebrows, “Yeah…that’s not something you tend to wish on anybody.”  Lucy swallowed hard as she asked the question that was weighing most on her mind hardly knowing if she even wanted the answer, “Is he…did he leave? Wyatt…is he with Jessica?”

 

“No…well, not yet, anyway.” Jiya responded uneasily.  “They actually asked me to come get you…he’s been talking with Agent Christopher.”

 

“Oh.”  Lucy breathed out as a fresh rush of guilt and shame made its way to her cheeks. “Okay…I’ll be right there.”

 

Lucy took little comfort in the fact that Wyatt had spent the last two hour speaking to Agent Christopher instead of running off to be reunited with the wife he had loved and lost. She had no reason to hope that his delay had anything to do with her, particularly since it was Jiya who had been tasked to fetch Lucy from her room like she was being called to the Principal’s office.  As she made her way down the hall, she was further convinced of her own insignificance as she noted with dread, that the entire team was assembled around the kitchen table, with a stony-faced Wyatt in the midst of them sitting before a sea of official looking papers and folders.

 

Flynn offered Lucy a hint of a sympathetic frown as he sat back in his own chair while she took a seat as far away from Wyatt as she could possibly be.  She didn’t feel like she had any right to claim anything other than a professional working relationship with him anymore and given his almost non-reaction to her sudden appearance, she deduced he felt the same way.

 

Feeling the eyes of everyone except Wyatt on her, Lucy felt the shame of her situation all the more, “Do we really have to do this with everybody?” she asked weakly.

 

“This concerns the entire team, Lucy.” Agent Christopher explained gently.  “As we were just communicating to Wyatt, we discovered this morning that pictures of Jessica are on the Rittenhouse data files we obtained from the raid made on their headquarters.”

 

Lucy’s eyes darted to Wyatt, but his eyes were trained on the table.  Whether he was still angry at her for not confiding in him or just overwhelmed with the enormity of the situation, she had no idea, but she tried to offer some sort of assurance to him all the same, “Maybe her pictures are in their files because they’re keeping tabs on all of us…on all of our loved ones.

 

“Yes, that could be true.” Agent Christopher nodded thoughtfully, “but…according to you, Rittenhouse was behind her return.

 

 

“So, what you’re saying is that Rittenhouse brought back Wyatt’s wife to be a spy?” Flynn observed carefully, his voice measured and forcefully calm.

 

Wyatt turned to look at Flynn, “She’s not a damn spy.” he spat out angrily.  “I can’t…I can’t believe that Jessica would be a part of Rittenhouse.” He scoffed as he shook his head “She’s nothing like those elitist assholes.  She’s from a working-class family.  Hell, she grew up in West Texas…what does 1980 San Diego have to do with any of this?”

 

“We’re working on that.” Mason said with a nod towards Jiya. “It does seem strange that one quick trip to San Diego would have such a…significant effect on the timeline, particularly since according to you, the only significance that has for her is that is where she died….in your timeline anyway.”

 

“Lucy,” Agent Christopher asked gently, “Wyatt told us you may have some information about Rittenhouse’s efforts to bring back Jessica…this…Plan B?  What is that?”

 

Lucy took a shuddering breath as she felt, rather than saw, Wyatt’s gaze rest on her.  “I didn’t…I wasn’t in on the specific details…” she tried to explain. 

 

“Just tell us what you know.” Agent Christopher offered.  “Anything to help us get a clearer picture of what has happened.”

 

Lucy nodded as tears began to pool in her eyes.  “Plan B was something they held over my head while I was being held there after 1934.” she sighed, “My mother came to me in my room not long after I arrived…and told me that I could either cooperate or they would…ma…make life difficult for me.”

 

‘Difficult, how?” Agent Christopher asked patiently.

 

“By bringing Jessica back.” Lucy groaned as she rubbed her hands on her temples, “She told me that if I didn’t comply they would make sure…I remembered everything.”

 

“What do you mean?” Agent Christopher asked. “Remember what?”

 

Taking a steadying breath, Lucy explained in a voice trembling with emotion, “The plan was to make Wyatt forget me…make us forget each other by changing the timeline to where Jessica never died.  By bringing her back, they supposed that Wyatt would never have been selected for this mission…and we would have never met.”  Wyatt straightened up in his chair and turned his full attention to Lucy as she sobbed quietly.  “I didn’t want that to happen…but I thought it would be less painful than the alternative.” Lucy admitted ruefully, “so I did whatever they asked me.  I read their stupid manifesto, I sat through my great grandfather’s lectures, I…I tried to keep Wyatt from bringing me back.”  She bit her lip as tears fell from her eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Lucy,” Wyatt whispered incredulously, “What the hell are you apologizing for?”

 

“Wait a minute,” Rufus interjected, “are you saying that because Wyatt came to get you, they brought Jessica back from the dead?”

 

“Mmm…I think the plan was always to bring her back, Rufus.” Mason explained with a sympathetic look towards Lucy.  “It’s the timing of it which was up for argument.”

 

“What do you mean?” Rufus looked around the table completely baffled, “either way, she’s back and it completely screws with the timeline.”

 

 “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Flynn interjected, “By bringing her back while they were both in the past, this hurts them both more than if they were completely ignorant of the change.”

 

Rufus shook his head, “That is some messed up family drama.  No offense, Lucy but your mother is one hell of a piece of work.”

 

Lucy let out a derisive chuckle, she couldn’t do much else.  How could she take offense when everything Rufus had said was true?  The entire reason they were hiding underground was because of her family… _her_ mother.  She cast her eyes around the table at the sad little group of refugees they were.  Flynn had been framed for his family’s murder, Rufus’ family believed he was dead, Mason lost his entire business, Agent Christopher had been beaten when she refused to bench Lucy.  How she could dare claim that she was doing that out of love…

 

“If I wouldn’t have gone to New York…I wouldn’t have remembered.” she mumbled to herself. Lucy sat back in astonishment remembering what Agent Christopher had told her that morning, _You should know she actually seems concerned about your welfare._   “They would have brought her back and I would’ve forgotten everything…” she looked at Agent Christopher, who even in this timeline, donned the bruises of her counterpart in the other, “maybe that’s why my mother wanted me benched…to make things easier for me.”   

 

“Easier for _you_?”  Wyatt asked as he sat forward, “Your mother wanted you benched because Rittenhouse is trying to kill you.” Wyatt reminded her, “Do you honestly think she gives a damn about whether or not you’d remember me?”

 

“It would work to their advantage if she didn’t.” Flynn mused thoughtfully.  “Lucy has proven to be stubborn and headstrong…particularly when it comes to you.” He nodded meaningfully at Wyatt, “For you, getting back the wife you love and have mourned for six years…and with Lucy not remembering you…”

 

“What?” snapped Wyatt. “You think I’d just…”he pushed away from the table and stood up, pacing in agitation.  “Just because Lucy didn’t remember doesn’t mean I would’ve forgotten.” he spat out.  “What the hell kind of person do you think I am?”

 

“Married.” Flynn said simply.  “Unless, of course, those vows you made don’t mean anything to you.”

 

Wyatt glared at Flynn as Agent Christopher interjected, “I don’t think we need to make any kind of moral judgements here.  Obviously, these circumstances are extenuating.”

 

“Yeah,” said Rufus jumping to Wyatt’s defense, “and if she’s a Rittenhouse agent…”

 

“She’s not a Rittenhouse agent.” Wyatt maintained huffily.  “

 

“How do explain her photos in their database, then?” answered Flynn, “And forgive me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you supposed to be dead?  How does she even know you’re alive?”

 

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?” Wyatt spat out angrily.  “You think I was sending her text messages from a classified bunker?  In my timeline, she’s dead.”

 

“Flynn does have a point.” Agent Christopher quipped as she crossed her arms over her chest.  “According to the military, you are Missing in Action, Presumed Dead.  You may have been estranged from her at the time of the explosion, but as she was your next of kin, she would have been notified.”

 

“Rittenhouse could have told her that Wyatt was alive.” Lucy answered softly.  “If they brought her back to…” Lucy swallowed hard, unable to say the words everyone was thinking,  “obviously, they would make sure she knew he was alive.” 

 

“Which would explain the text messages.” Wyatt spat out meaningfully to Flynn. 

 

At that, Lucy’s curiosity was piqued.  Silently getting an assurance from Wyatt, she reached for his discarded phone on the table, her shaking finger hovering over text message after text message from Jessica, each one asking where he was, why he hadn’t contacted her in months, what he was doing. 

 

She all but demanded to see him.      

 

Looking at his phone, Lucy couldn’t help but feel sorry for Jessica.  If she really was, as Wyatt believed, an innocent victim in all of this, her reality, until recently, had been that Wyatt had been killed. Even if they had been estranged at the time of that bombing at Mason Industries, it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t be affected by it.  If she really loved Wyatt and their last moments together had been unhappy, she probably lived with the same guilt Wyatt had known. 

 

“I have to see her.” Wyatt said with a thoughtful purse of his lips.  “I have to see her for myself.  He looked up at Agent Christopher, “It’s the only way…we can sit here and talk about theories all damn day, but it’s not going to give us any real answers.” 

 

He pulled away from the table as Agent Christopher lifted her hand in pause, “I cannot guarantee your safety if you do this.”

 

“She’s my wife.” Wyatt spat out angrily.  “I think I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t be involved with this…”

 

“Wyatt,” Agent Christopher warned, “we can never be too careful.  Remember, Lucy would never have believed her mother...”

 

“That’s different.” Wyatt gritted out with a shake of his head, “Jessica isn’t like…them.”  At Lucy’s sharp intake of breath, Wyatt threw his head back and gave an exasperated sigh, “That’s not what I meant, Lucy…”

 

She, however, had been mortified enough.  She was already keenly aware that in the eyes of some of their team members she was little more than an adulteress, but to know that it was her family that was responsible for bringing so much grief to everyone in that room…upending their lives and playing with their emotions…she just needed to get away from it all. Excusing herself, Lucy skirted past the table and made her way back down the hall towards her bedroom.  

 

“Now you’ve done it.” Flynn muttered as Wyatt breathed out a curse and chased after her down the hall. 

 

Lucy had almost reached the door to her room when Wyatt called out to her desperately, “Lucy, wait!” She turned reluctantly to meet him, feeling that an any moment her emotions would get the better of her. Wyatt, sensing her hesitancy, apologized, “Look, I didn’t mean that you are anything like those Rittenhouse dicks.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he continued, “It’s just…I don’t know what the hell to do…or what to even think.”

 

Lucy leaned against the wall for support, her heart aching as he looked more helpless than she had ever seen him.  “I’m sorry, Wyatt.” she whispered.  “I should have told you.”

 

He clenched his jaw as he looked at her, “Why didn’t you?  Lucy…my God, you were ready to let them…” he bit his lip as he attempted to compose himself before stating coldly, “I guess I should just be glad you still remember me, right?”

 

“Wyatt,” Lucy implored, “I didn’t want that…I didn’t want _any_ of this.  Do you have any idea how upset I was knowing that at any moment…”

 

“No, I don’t, because you didn’t tell me.” Wyatt snapped back, “you told Flynn.”  He shook his head in frustration, “Flynn.”

 

“I didn’t mean to tell him.” Lucy sighed in anguished defeat.  “I just needed a drink…and he had the bottle.” Lucy muttered mechanically as she sank down on the floor, “I thought that maybe he could tell me more about that journal.  Why I gave it to him, why I wrote it…what was I trying to change…and if I was trying to change my future, how that didn’t make me any better than my mother.”

 

“What do you mean, Lucy?” Wyatt breathed out in exasperation, “You’re nothing like your mother.”

 

Lucy let out a short laugh, “You know, Flynn said the same thing.  Funny…he doesn’t even know my mother.”

 

Wyatt observed her for a short while before taking a seat next to her on the floor, “So does the journal say anything about…all of this?”

 

Lucy leaned her head back against the wall and shook her head, “I don’t know.”  She sighed, “Flynn said he didn’t think my giving him the journal was about changing my future…he said it was to stop Rittenhouse from ruining it.”

 

“Well, what the hell does that mean?” Wyatt asked. 

 

“I don’t know…but he…” Lucy scoffed, “I know you don’t like that I told him, Wyatt…but he really made me believe that Rittenhouse was just trying to exploit our relationship…just like they did in Salem.” She sighed, “I was so sure he was right.”

 

“Maybe he was.” Wyatt muttered.  “I mean, I’m pretty damn sure they didn’t bring Jessica back to do me any favors.” He let out a derisive chuckle as he leaned his own head back against the wall.  Silence fell between them, neither quite knowing what to say in the face of their altered situation.  When Wyatt finally did speak, the words he spoke sent a stabbing pain through her heart, “I have to see her, Lucy.  I can’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes.”

 

“I know.” Lucy nodded in understanding, though it took every ounce of self-restraint she had to not beg him stay. 

 

                                                            ******************

 

Agent Christopher refused to allow Wyatt to leave without first setting up a reconnaissance mission in an attempt to determine whether it was safe for him to do so.  While Wyatt was visibly impatient, Lucy was grateful that Agent Christopher had had the foresight to consider that this whole thing may be some kind of elaborate trap. 

 

Several days passed and no information was forthcoming.  Wyatt paced around the bunker like a madman ready to snap, and Lucy, already feeling as if she were a third wheel in the melodrama, kept herself tucked away in her room, avoiding Wyatt and the sympathetic eyes of everyone in the bunker as much as she could. 

 

There was no use in denying the inevitable.  Wyatt was married…to his lightning bolt.  His greatest regret had become his greatest miracle…a new opportunity at a life with the woman he had first loved.  As much as Lucy wished she could anchor a hope on the fact that he also loved her, she knew that holding him to that declaration in the face of all of this, was wrong.  It wasn’t his fault Jessica was back, and loving him as she did, she couldn’t bear to be the person that kept him from having that second chance he had wanted for so long. 

 

Wyatt seemed just as anxious to avoid her.  In the times that they did meet in the bunker, whether it was bumping into each other outside of the bathroom, sitting across from each other at meal times, or just passing each other idly in the hall, guilt would cloud his features and where typically he would banter and flirt with her, now, he would stammer off an apology or make a flat observation before ducking away to his own carved out corner of their underground prison.   

 

Finally, the day that Lucy had been simultaneously dreading and wishing had already come, arrived. Agent Christopher summoned Wyatt from the common room to the kitchen table with the long-awaited news from her reconnaissance team. 

 

Lucy, who was sitting on the couch, couldn’t help but cast wary glances towards them as they chatted together over what the team had discovered. 

 

“She’s working at a bar in San Francisco.” Agent Christopher announced finally as he took his seat at the table, “So far, nothing seems amiss.  Her background seems to check out, she’s been employed there since you both moved to the area when you were called to take this assignment.”

 

“So, she’s not a spy?” Wyatt said with a meaningful eye towards Garcia Flynn who was in his usual chair, reading. 

 

“You know as well as I do, Wyatt, “Agent Christopher warned, “you cannot trust things at face value. If Rittenhouse brought her back, we need to assume that there is a reason behind it, that doesn’t just include your personal life.”

 

“You got a location for this bar?” Wyatt asked anxiously as he leaned forward. 

 

“The Forgery Bar on Mission.” Agent Christopher answered as handed Wyatt a manila folder, “Here’s all the information we were able to gather.”

 

Taking a steeling breath, he took the folder from her, flipping it open with an eagerness that spoke to his current state of mind.  As his eyes scanned the contents, he passed a hand over his jaw as his eyes softened at what Lucy cold only assume was a picture of…

 

“Jessica.” Wyatt whispered. “Oh my God, it’s actually her.”  He let out a shuddering breath as leaned forward over the folder, staring at the picture in complete and total disbelief. 

 

“Take all the time that you need.” Agent Christopher murmured, “When you’re ready, we have a car waiting at your disposal.”

 

Wyatt pored over the photos, taking in every last detail he could about this Jessica who looked so familiar, but after six years apart, looked somehow different than the woman he remembered.  Her hair was shorter and her expression seemed harder than it had been, but, she was still essentially Jessica. 

 

His anxiety began to mount as he considered what he would say to her after six years of guilt and regret. What had their lives been like in that time?  If they were really estranged, what had happened between them?  Would she be angry with him?  Would she be happy to see him?  Relieved that he was alive?  If she was working for Rittenhouse, would he know her enough now, after six years, to know?  Closing the folder with a sigh, Wyatt pushed away from the table, determined to take things just one step at a time.  He was just sliding on his jacket, when his eyes drifted over to Lucy, who was sitting alone toying absent mindedly with her necklace, and reading a book.     

 

Taking a steadying breath, he eased his way over to her, his feelings for her overwhelming any voice in the back of his head that told him he was not free to do so,  “I’m…I’m going to be heading out soon.” he murmured as he placed his hands on her shoulders gently caressing them while he bent down to press a kiss to her cheek.

 

She, however, leapt away from his touch as if she were burned, scrambling to her feet to face him, “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

 

He looked back at her, hurt and confusion all over his face, as he stepped forward towards her, “Lucy, I still love you…this doesn’t change that.”

 

“You are married, Wyatt.” Lucy hissed out incredulously.  “You’re about to go see your wife.”  Wyatt rubbed a rough hand on the back of his neck as Lucy continued, “We have to accept the fact that this timeline is different.” Tears pooled in her eyes as she tried to explain, “You’ve been given a second chance, Wyatt…what you’ve always wanted. Rittenhouse or no, that is the closest thing to a miracle I have ever seen, and there is no way I’m going to stand between you – that is not who I am.”

 

Wyatt hung his head down in apparent shame, “I’m glad you are who you are.” he muttered affectionately, “but Lucy…where does this leave us?  I don’t want to lose you.”

 

Lucy stood there staring at him, gasping for a breath that would not come.  “There is no us” she finally sobbed out, “not anymore.”  Wyatt made to argue, but Lucy stopped him as she nodded her head firmly, “No, Wyatt.  She’s your wife…and you love her.” 

 

“I love _you_.” Wyatt said firmly, knocking Lucy off-balance, but she couldn’t accept that. She could not and would not lose her head…she was no adulteress and she had no intention of becoming one. 

 

“When I first met you, you told me that the one thing you wanted more than anything in the world was to change what had happened to Jessica.” Lucy contended.  “Wyatt, you just got the love of your life back.” She nodded her head vigorously as if trying to convince herself of her next statement, though the expression on her face betrayed her broken heart, “This…this is a good thing.”  Wyatt stared back at her looking every bit as conflicted as she imagined anyone in his position might feel.  Determined to not stand in the way of his marriage, Lucy swallowed hard and forced a smile on her face as she added, “I’m…I’m so happy for you.”

 

“You’re lying.”  Wyatt gritted out through his unshed tears as he reached out a hand to cup her face.  “I know you are…admit it.”

 

Lucy, however, shook her head and stepped away from him.  “You need to go, Wyatt.” she pleaded.  “Go…go see Jessica.”

 

Dropping his hand from her face as his own twisted in agony, Lucy backed away from him as he looked back at her helplessly.  She folded her arms across her chest and huffed out a shaky breath and Wyatt knew it was no use.  Lucy was right.  He was married and things between them could not be the same.  Quirking his lip at her as he fought off his own tears, Wyatt made his way down the hall and towards the main bunker door.    

 

“That was very brave of you.” Flynn acknowledged quietly from the corner. 

 

Lucy sucked in a breath and turned abruptly to face him, quickly wiping away her tears, “Didn’t Rufus tell you that eavesdropping was rude?”

 

Flynn lifted his book, “I wasn’t.  I…uh…didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I was just coming to get my book and…well, I didn’t want to interrupt.”  Flynn nodded, “I’m sorry, Lucy.”

 

Whether Flynn was apologizing for eavesdropping or for what had passed between her and Wyatt, she didn’t know…nor did she care.  She quickly turned and marched quickly down the hall, closing her bedroom door behind her with a deafening snap.  The barrage of tears she had tried so hard to keep at bay, came flooding through like a burst dam, causing her to shake and convulse with the power of her overwrought emotions.  She lay down on her cot, staring up at the ceiling for hours, until the light grew dimmer and her parched throat and dry eyes demanded attention.  Slowly, she got up and cautiously opened the door, half afraid that Wyatt would be on the other side, waiting for her, ready to lead her down a road of temptation that a poisonous part of her would happily traverse with him.  No moral dilemma was to be had, however.  Her door swung open to reveal nothing but an empty and darkened hallway. 

 

Silently making her way towards the common room, she was relieved once again to find that no one was lounging around.  Rufus, Jiya, and Mason were busy making modifications to the LifeBoat and hadn’t seen her, Agent Christopher had long gone home, and Flynn…had apparently taken refuge in his room. 

 

Not wanting to think about where Wyatt was and what he might be doing, Lucy resolutely made her way over to the cupboard, with every intention of filling up a water bottle and heading back to her room when Jiya’s voice sounded beside her.  “Have a cold one, on me.” She said with a smirk as she offered Lucy a beer. 

 

Lucy jumped slightly, not sure how Jiya had made it over to her so swiftly and silently, but one look towards the Lifeboat, seeing Rufus ducking his head away quickly, convinced her that they had been watching and waiting for her.  Lucy smiled despite the pain in her heart and took the proffered bottle gladly, “Thanks” she muttered. 

 

“You could use it…we all could.” Jiya said with a roll of her eyes before joining Lucy at the table. They both sat together in silence for a while, taking small sips of their beers before Jiya hesitantly asked, “Wyatt loves you…doesn’t he?”  Lucy paused, the bottle suspended, tipped towards her mouth for another drink, before she set it down on the table with a heavy sigh.  “I’m sorry.” Jiya muttered uncomfortably, “I shouldn’t pry.”

 

“No…no, Jiya.” Lucy said with a shake of her head, “it’s okay.”  “He does…but now…”she pursed her lips as she fought off a fresh wave of tears, “now it doesn’t matter.”

 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Jiya said with a shrug, “you know, in this timeline…you may not have been a couple, but you were close.” she nodded meaningfully, “the way you two danced around each other…it was clear to any one paying attention that…well…that there was a hope for something more.

 

“But we never…” Lucy bristled defensively.

 

“No.” Jiya assured her. “No…you two were both straight as an arrow when it came to that sort of thing.”  Jiya pursed her lips as if debating whether or not to press the issue further, “Though I think it was pretty obvious to everyone that Wyatt wasn’t happy with Jessica…even before you two became such good friends.”

 

“Whatever problems they had,” Lucy said with a shrug, “it doesn’t matter now.  This Wyatt has lived with years of regret and guilt over her death. I know he’d do anything to have her back…even if it means giving up all this.”

 

“Giving you up, you mean?” Jiya corrected.  “I don’t mean to burst your bubble of self-delusion, Lucy…but I just don’t see any version of Wyatt doing that.”  

 

Lucy offered Jiya a sad smile as she took another drink of her beer.  “He already has, Jiya.  He tried so many times to save her…he sent her a telegram from 1962…he even stole the time machine, risking his place on the team…he was even arrested…all for her.” Lucy sighed heavily, “He may say that he loves me…but Jessica…she’s the one he’s risked everything for.”

 

“What are we talking about, ladies?” Rufus uttered as he pulled out a chair and plopped down beside Jiya.

 

“Taking risks.” Lucy said quickly, not wanting to wallow in self-pity in front of Rufus. 

 

“Speaking of taking risks” Rufus muttered in a low voice to Jiya, as he looked over his shoulder at Mason, “do you really think this auto-pilot thing is a good idea?”

 

“Auto-pilot?” Lucy asked, grateful to talk about anything else other than Wyatt and Jessica,  “I don’t know if I like the sound of that…”

 

Rufus nodded his head as he pointed to her, “See…I knew I wouldn’t be the only one.  I love technology, but…it takes precision to pilot that thing…one glitch and we’re…well, I don’t know what exactly would happen to us, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t be good.”

 

“Rufus, it’s turning the LifeBoat into a DeLorean…if anything you should be excited about that.”

 

“Have you seen the _Back to the Future_ movies?” Rufus asked her incredulously.  “All it took was one bolt of lightning and BAM!  Doc Brown was stuck in the Old West.”

 

“C’mon Rufus.” Jiya teased, “You know it doesn’t work like that.”

 

“Fine.  It’s called job security, Jiya.  If I’m not needed as the pilot, then what the hell am I good for?” 

 

“Rufus, you’re more than just the pilot.” Lucy consoled, “Don’t you remember the Watergate mission?  We would have never gotten to Doc without you.” Rufus shrugged slightly as Lucy shook her head,   “But why do the auto-pilot anyway?  Between you and Jiya…”

 

“Mason is paranoid.” Rufus confided to her in a whisper, “Ever since I almost got shot in that bar with Robert Johnson, he’s been freaking out saying that he could’ve been stranded back in 1936.  So…he wants to make it so any one of you could pilot the Lifeboat, if needed…which again, means my contribution to the team?  Pretty much non-existent once we get this thing up and running.”

 

“Rufus, that’s _not_ true.” Lucy emphasized firmly, “I think you have more than proved yourself on these missions.  Watergate, Paris, the Alamo, Hollywood…and I know for a fact we would have never survived Bonnie and Clyde without you.”

 

“Yeah…and who diffused that Nazi bomb?  Or was Ian Fleming just being generous to your character in _Weapon of Choice?_ ” Jiya ribbed. 

 

“Okay, okay…so my job is piloting the LifeBoat and occasionally teaming up with someone awesome in history to keep Wyatt and Lucy from dying horrible deaths at the hands of Nazis and bank robbers.  I’m a glorified babysitter.”

 

“Wha…?” Lucy gasped out, “I beg your pardon…we don’t need babysitting, Rufus.  I think, under the circumstances, we manage pretty well.  I mean, who got us out of that Nazi castle?”

 

“Yeah, well we would never have had to escape the Nazi castle if you hadn’t been all “oh sure, Ian Fleming, I’ll be your secretary.” Rufus mimed with a roll of his eyes. Lucy turned to argue with him, but Rufus cut her off, “C’mon Lucy, admit it, you went along with that plan to impress James Bond.  Hell, even Wyatt said it was a bad idea.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Lucy gasped out, affronted.  “Ian Fleming had nothing to do with my decision.  We had to find out what Flynn wanted with Von Braun, and we couldn’t exactly explain why it was so important…”

 

 “Okay, then, “ Rufus conceded, “it was your stubbornness that almost got us all killed in Nazi Germany.” 

 

“What was I supposed to do? Not stop Flynn?  Let him hand off Von Braun to the Soviets?  It wasn’t stubbornness,” she maintained huffily, “it was…it was” memories of that mission, of Wyatt, marched their way across mind like an unwelcome, goose-stepping army.   She shook her head to clear her thoughts, but Rufus was still arguing with her.

 

 “…and it wasn’t just that mission, who’s the one who refused to stay behind when THE Bass Reeves told her to stay behind?”

 

“Um…I seem to remember being the one to shoot Jesse James.” Lucy countered, grateful to replace warm thoughts of Wyatt with scenes from that cold and dismal mission to 19thcentury Missouri. 

 

“Yeah, after Bass told you not to.” Rufus responded as he took a drink from Jiya’s beer.

 

“He was supposed to be dead!” Lucy argued.  

 

“Fair enough.” Rufus conceded, “But who was the one who left Wyatt standing helpless and lovesick in a medical tent in 1918 after he had been going out of his mind for six weeks, risking court martials and broken bones to find you?” Rufus quipped as Lucy stared at him in surprise, “But no, you were still dead set on blowing up that damn mothership…which, didn’t happen by the way…had to save your ass at the last minute on that one too.”

 

“What did you say?” Lucy breathed out as she gaped at Rufus.

 

“We had to save your ass at the last minute.” Rufus answered her unconcernedly.  “Don’t try to act like Emma wouldn’t have killed you if we hadn’t shown up…”

 

“No…I mean…I mean, the other thing…about Wyatt.” Lucy said in a voice piqued with curiosity. 

 

“What?  That he was clearly head over heels in love with you? Or the fact that he had been going out of his damn mind for six weeks trying to break out of this bunker to find you?” Rufus asked with raised eyebrows. “What the hell do you think happened here during those six weeks, Lucy?”  Rufus prompted sardonically, “You think we just sat around here playing checkers?”

 

“I…I don’t know…I just thought…”

 

“Even in my timeline he was crazy worried.” Jiya announced with a nod, “I walked in on him punching the bathroom wall…broke one of those crappy tiles above the sink.”

 

Lucy gaped at the two of them, but shook her head to recover her composure, “Well, that doesn’t mean…”

 

“Lucy, he tried to buzz saw his way out of here just to find you.” Rufus countered.  “And when Agent Christopher caught him, he didn’t give a damn…he told her to court martial him.”

 

“Hmmm…sounds like he would risk everything for you, too.” Jiya muttered quietly with a small smile to Lucy. 

 

“Jessica is his wife.” Lucy argued feebly.  “It doesn’t matter what he did then…it doesn’t change the fact that he’s married...married to someone he has loved for longer than he has even known me.” Lucy contended as she stood up from the table.  “Th…thanks for the beer.” she muttered to Jiya.   “I…um…think I’m just going to go to bed.”

 

Lucy made the lonely journey back to her room, her heart too heavy to do more than crawl under her covers and cry softly into her pillow.  She was kicking herself for agreeing to that beer.  To know now just how much Wyatt had done for her, how much he had risked on her behalf, was more than a little bittersweet – it just put into glaring perspective how much she had really lost.

 

She was exhausted, emotionally spent, but sleep refused to come….and as she had no desire to make her way back out into the common room, she tossed and turned the rest of the night wishing that she could just turn off the never-ending movie reel of regret that was playing through her mind, wondering if Wyatt was doing the same thing…wherever he was.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH THE ANGST!!!! I know....it's horrible....but they're in a HORRIBLE situation right now and Wyatt is really a man torn apart....to make him completely indifferent to Jessica's return wouldn't be realistic..and of course, he has to go to see her...she is his WIFE after all. 
> 
> One thing I really wanted in this fic was to have Rufus talk to Lucy about what Wyatt had done in the six weeks she was missing. Doing it here when she's comparing his love for her to his love for Jessica was my way of sort of slapping Lucy with a truth bomb - that yes, Wyatt would risk everything for Lucy too...and so she should probably sit up and take notice. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update. I'm really working hard to get this one finished, because I really would love to start sharing Stranded with you all, but I've had to abandon writing that one so I can finish this and Torrent. What can I say, I can't do all of these fics at the same time...my head just can't be in that many stories at once. 
> 
> I hope you all have a great weekend!


	13. Lightning Bolt

The musty smell of cigarette smoke assaulted Wyatt’s nostrils as he opened the door to his motel room.   Even though the placard on the door indicated its non-smoking status, it was clear that whoever occupied this room prior to his arrival had ignored that particular directive.  “What else is new?” Wyatt muttered as he shut the door behind him, too used to these types of places from his many years traveling all over the country with the military to be shocked by the dinginess of the less than stellar lodgings.   Flicking on the light switch did little to brighten the room, so Wyatt threw open the cheap curtains, flooding the drab two star accommodations in sunlight.  It should have been a cheerful sight, considering he had been living underground for the past few months, but it wasn't.

 

Wyatt let out a derisive laugh as he considered how much his opinion of that damn rust bucket had changed in just the past few weeks.  When he had first awoken from his injuries and found himself in that hell hole of a bunker, he had considered it more a prison than the safe haven it was supposed to be.   Cut off from the world as they were, separated from Lucy…he had memorized every square inch of that place in an effort to keep himself from going completely insane with worry.  He spent his days doing menial tasks, obsessively making the beds with military precision…anything to keep his focus on what was before him, rather than what kind of hell Lucy might be suffering. 

 

That all changed, of course, when they brought her back with them from 1918. 

 

Lucy’s presence in the bunker made everything different.  The groaning pipes, the lumpy mattresses, the incessant cold water, the locks that didn’t work…none of that seemed to matter anymore.  Wyatt certainly didn’t notice it, anyway.  Before, he would curse the icy floors of the bunker and fight with Rufus over the extra blanket in their room.  These past few weeks with Lucy, however, he welcomed the way she would nestle up to him for added warmth and while he may have given her his share of reproving glares for entangling her frozen feet with his, he secretly thanked the Army Corp of Engineers for building such a crappy furnace that made such gestures a damn near necessity.

Nobody in their right mind would consider such rusty and ramshackle rust bucket a home but for the last few weeks, Wyatt had.  And why wouldn’t he?  That bunker housed more than just a team…they were a family.

Family.

That was something that was a bit of an anomaly to Wyatt; his experience with it had hardly been picture perfect.  Between the drunken rages of his father and the early death of his mother, he didn't exactly have a  _Leave it to Beaver_ type childhood.  He probably would have wound up in a hell of a lot of trouble if his Grandpa Sherwin hadn't stepped up to the plate and molded Wyatt into the man he was today.  It was that example, the example of his hero, that made Wyatt so damn determined to have that family of his own.  He had tried with Jessica...but that had gone to hell, even before she was murdered.  And was it really a surprise that it had?  He was never there to make a home with her.  Deployments, missions, trainings...as Wyatt sat there thinking it all over he knew, with a pang, that Jessica may have been his wife, but he was married to his career.    

Living in the bunker, therefore, had given him something he had never quite had before.  Rufus, Jiya, Mason, and Lucy...they weren't like his military team.  Sure, he trusted them and relied on them the same as he would his Delta Force comrades, but their lack of training, their civilian status, had made them decidedly different than the people he normally served with.  Rufus and Jiya were brilliant engineers, Mason was a billionaire entrepreneur...and Lucy, well...he never in a million years thought that he would ever be mixed up with someone with her background.  Yet, they had all accepted him...the scrappy kid from a small West Texas town had found a place among them...and he couldn't be more grateful.  

The absence of the people, therefore, who mattered more to him than anything else in the world…more particularly the absence of one of those people…was enough to make him wish himself back in the freezing cold of the dark, dank bunker than sitting in the sunny warmth of a sleazy motel room. 

 

But he had to do this. 

 

A quick check of his watch told him that Jessica should be arriving at any minute.   Agent Christopher had recommended finding a neutral place for Wyatt and Jessica to meet.  While Wyatt wasn’t keen on the idea of a motel room, it was something that could be easily arranged at short notice and allowed for agents to be posted all around him, in case there was any trouble.

 

Not that Wyatt believed there would be any trouble. 

 

A soft knock had him leaping to his feet nervously, hardly knowing what the hell he was going to say before he wrenched open the door and felt every last ounce of breath leave his lungs as he stood there gaping at a very much alive Jessica. 

 

She looked back at him with a mixture of hurt, anger and confusion, her arms crossed defiantly against her chest as if daring him to give her some lame ass excuse for his neglect.  Wyatt, however, was too overcome with the emotional vomit of six years’ worth of grief to give a damn about how pissed she might be feeling.  Any reservations he had about seeing his once dead wife and what he might say, dissolved in an onslaught of tears as Wyatt wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.” he breathed out against her hair and neck. 

 

Jessica reluctantly returned the hug, pulling herself away with a look of annoyance as she took in his motel room, “So this is where you’ve been for the past five months?” she snapped. 

 

Having absolutely no idea what circumstances had led to their separation, but knowing he sure as hell couldn’t tell her about the bunker, Wyatt attempted to make light of the situation, “Well, it’s better than that dump we stayed in on our honeymoon, remember that?”

 

Jessica glared back at him, “Do you have any idea what the hell I’ve been through?” she gritted out angrily.  “I thought you were dead.”

 

Wyatt resisted the urge to say “Likewise” and instead took a deep breath and tried to explain, “Look, Jess…the last couple months are a little hazy for me.”

 

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She snarked back as she rolled her eyes.  “You’re only drunk off your ass five nights a week.”

 

That revelation took Wyatt completely aback.  “What are you talking about?” Wyatt asked in confusion and alarm.  He and Jessica may have had their problems and sure he didn’t mind a whiskey every now and then, but he swore after witnessing first-hand the drunken rages of his no-good sonofabitch father that he would never nurse the bottle like he did. 

 

“Oh, come off it, Wyatt.” Jessica railed. “You are rarely sober and when you aren’t kicking back with a bottle of Jack Daniels, you’re in some jealous rage or you disappear for days on end without so much as a word.”  She scoffed, “You know, I actually thought you were dead this time…I mourned you, Wyatt.” 

 

"Jessica...I ...I don't know what to say." he stammered out in shock. 

What the hell was going on?  Had things really gotten this bad between them?  He had lived with six years of guilt and regret after her murder, but now, he was dealing with a whole different type of guilt and regret.  He had put her through absolute hell, treated her like complete garbage…he had become the very thing he had hated most about his own father – a drunken, raging, asshole. 

 

Suddenly, he felt nothing but shame.  Yes, he knew their life together hadn’t been perfect.  They had had more than their share of fights…hell, one such fight had led to her untimely death…but he couldn’t deny the fact that once upon a time, they were happy.  At least, _he_ was…which made these allegations all the more maddening.  How could he ever be the drunken asshole his father was?  How could he have ever let himself ruin his marriage in that way?    

 

The past six years had given him more than enough time to relive his past regrets.  Nights out with his buddies that could have been spent with Jessica, calls he should have made, dates they should have gone on…Wyatt knew he could have been a better husband…but as he sunk down on the hotel bed going over all of this in his mind, he also knew that he had always strived to live up to the example of his Grandpa Sherwin – to be the man he expected him to be. 

 

This Wyatt…whoever he was…was not him.  Not even close.  

 

"You never know what to say, Wyatt" Jessica snapped back, "Until I leave or threaten to divorce you and then you bust out the water works."

 

“Jessica,” Wyatt breathed out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…but you’ve gotta believe me when I say that Wyatt you’re describing?  That’s not me….I mean, maybe it was at one time, but not anymore.”

 

Jessica let out a derisive laugh, “Right.  That’s what you always say…and the three weeks later, we’re back at square one.”

 

“No…that’s not true.  Jessica, I’m not that guy.”

 

“Oh yeah?” she countered.  “Then prove it.  Where the hell have you been these past five months?”  Wyatt made to explain but Jessica cut him off, “And don’t you dare tell me it’s classified.” 

 

“Jessica” Wyatt breathed out in exasperation, “It _is_ classified…hell, you wouldn’t even believe me if I told you.”

 

“Try me.” Jessica spat back as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

 

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” Wyatt swallowed hard as he considered how his absence had driven her into the arms of someone else, how lonely her life must be with him constantly gone, and forever picking up and moving to a new place only to be left on her own again.  His career had driven them apart…there was no denying his role in what had happened to her…to them…in both of these timelines.  As Jessica rolled her eyes and turned away from him, Wyatt lunged off the bed and gently tugged her towards him, “Look, I can’t even imagine what being married to me must be like for you.” 

 

“Yeah, that’s bull and you know it.” Jessica said with a laugh.  “I put up with the cold dinners and the lonely nights because I’m proud of you and what you do.”  She shook her head at him helplessly, “But the whispered conversations that end the minute I come into the room, the half-truths, the partial answers…”she broke down in tears as she gritted out, “I love you, Wyatt…but I…I can’t be married to a state secret.”  She gave a ragged sigh as she dug into her purse, “If you can’t be honest with me, then I think it’s time we just get this over with.” she pulled out a manila envelope and shoved it at him.   

 

Wyatt’s heart caught in his throat as he opened the flap and drew out the legal documents from inside, “Divorce papers” me muttered mechanically, “Jess…I…I had no idea that things between us had gotten so bad. 

 

“What are you talking about, Wyatt?” she nearly yelled in exasperation.  “You’ve been gone for five months!  Hell, we haven’t even lived together for almost a year.”

 

“Jess, I know this going to sound crazy…” Wyatt contended, “but, I really don’t remember any of this.  You and I…we had our problems, sure…but…not anything like…”

 

There you go again, putting our marriage on this pedestal.” Jessica spat out in frustration.  “Wyatt, you have this fantasy of what this marriage is...we aren’t the couple you think we are.”

 

His mind went back to those dark times after he had discovered Jessica’s affair.  He had all but drove them out of his mind when she had been killed…feeling just as much to blame for her wandering as he felt for her death.  It was his long absences, after all, that had driven her to find comfort somewhere else.  Wyatt raked a hand over his face apologetically as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jess.”

 

“Sorry doesn’t work anymore, Wyatt.” Jessica sighed as she shook her head.  “I’ve tried so hard to be patient, but hell, you can’t even tell me where you were these past five months.  For all I know, you’ve been shacking up with some other woman.”

 

Another pang of guilt shot through him at that allegation.   He knew that he couldn’t deny it…not that he meant to cheat on Jessica.  She, however, would never understand that, not unless she knew about the time machine…but even then, he couldn’t deny his feelings for Lucy.  It really didn’t signify that he fell for her when Jessica was dead and buried, the only thing that mattered was that he was now a married man who was head over heels in love with a woman who was not his wife.

 

 Unable to meet her penetrating stare as he thought about Lucy, Jessica rounded on him, “Oh my God…you have been sleeping with someone else, haven’t you?”  She shook her head, “You know, I’m not even surprised.  How many affairs does this make now, Wyatt?”  

“What?” Wyatt asked incredulously.  Now he knew he had no idea who that Wyatt was.  If there was one thing he was not, it was unfaithful.  Hell, how long had Jessica been dead before he even allowed himself a chance to hope for something with Lucy…and how much longer before he even acted on it?   “Jess,” Wyatt breathed out as he covered his face with his hands, “I don’t know what you’re…I’ve been working.” He muttered as he realized he had just done what she had accused him of doing earlier…telling her a half-truth…though technically, the last time he had been with Lucy was when Jessica was still dead, so he supposed maybe he was being honest, after all. “My job…it’s complicated - it requires me to be gone all the time.”

 

“You need to get your priorities straight, Wyatt.” Jessica gritted out.  “Once and for all, I need you to decide whether you are married to me or to your damn career.”

 

Six years of wishing he could go back and do things differently and now that he had his chance he had, once again, screwed it all up before he even had an opportunity to fix things. 

 

Or had he?

 

Jessica was giving him an ultimatum.  He could give it all up, commit himself to her more fully.  Be the husband she deserved after all the years of hell he had put her through.

 

But could he give up Lucy?      

 

The thought of never seeing her again, made him sick.  But what if Lucy was right?  What if this was a miracle?  No one could deny that this was a unique and once in a lifetime opportunity.  Hell, Garcia Flynn had murdered his way through history in an effort to get his own wife back.  If he didn’t jump at this chance, what kind of an ungrateful bastard would he be?  So, what if it was Rittenhouse who brought her back?  The mere fact that she now had a chance to live a life that she was robbed of should be enough to have him on his knees, thanking God that at long last his prayers had been answered.  

 

Jessica’s eyes bore into his as he contemplated the very difficult choice before him.  She reached out and grasped his hands, “I’m just asking you to be honest with me, Wyatt.  Don’t you think I deserve that, after everything we’ve been through?”

 

 

                                                                                                       ***************************

 

 

Sleep was a near impossibility for Lucy these days. 

 

This last week spent in the bunker was quiet and subdued.  Rufus and Jiya were hard at work making upgrades to the LifeBoat, Flynn was forever in his room, as was Mason, and even Agent Christopher’s visits seemed less frequent.  When the team did assemble for meal times and the occasional movie, there was an awkwardness in the air that could only be attributed to the fact that Wyatt was no longer among them.

 

For Lucy, Wyatt’s continued absence only served as a glaring reminder that he was no longer a part of her personal life…and as more time passed and still there had been no indication that he was returning, she imagined that he would no longer be a part of her professional life either. 

 

Not that she could blame him.

 

To be reunited with his wife, to have that second chance?  Why on Earth would he risk losing her again by jumping into a time machine?  Why would he leave the comfort of her arms and the conveniences of a normal life to return to the dismal existence that was life in the bunker?

 

Lucy wished for a mission…anything to help her focus her attention on something other than the gaping hole in her heart, but Rittenhouse, it seemed, was relishing in her torment.  No missions came, no other developments occurred, and so Lucy was forced to pass each excruciating second fighting back tears as she attempted to busy herself with some mundane task around the bunker in an effort to keep herself from thinking too much on what might have been.  

 

The others seemed happy to oblige her, offering up little tasks she could assist them with, but their pitying looks and all too kind responses to any of her questions made her feel more like a project than a friend.  They were all walking on eggshells around her and it was pathetically obvious, despite her best efforts to show them that she was _fine_.  Her heart may have been a broken mess, but she would manage her disappointment…and could do it much better if she had something to occupy her time.  Since everyone insisted on treating her with kid gloves, more often than not she found herself alone in her room, reading a book or listening to Mason’s old collection of jazz albums. 

 

On the eighth night of Wyatt’s absence, Lucy could no longer stand the confines of her room.  She was restless and the lack of sleep had made her irritable.  Pulling on a pair of woolen socks over her sweat pants, Lucy made her way down the darkened corridor and flipped on the television.  Memories of curling up on the couch with Amy, watching classic films served to both assault and buoy up her heart as she queued up one of her favorite classic films, _It Happened One Night._   Feet propped up on the coffee table, her head resting in her hands, she had hardly noticed or cared that she was soon joined by Garcia Flynn who silently offered her a beer as he took a seat beside her. 

 

“One of Clark Gable’s better performances.” Flynn observed after taking a swig of his beer.  “I always thought _Gone with the Wind_ was a bit over-rated.  Lucy merely grunted in reply as Flynn continued, “This was made in what?  1937?”

 

“1934” Lucy said flatly, the mission, the kiss, associated with that year suddenly brought to the forefront of her mind.

 

Flynn, either keenly aware or woefully oblivious to what was running through her head, frowned as he muttered softly against his beer bottle, “Not my favorite year.”

 

Lucy could not agree with that statement, so she said nothing.

 

Instead, she immersed herself in the love story unfolding in grainy black and white on the television screen before her, delighting in every bit of banter, every familiar scene, every memorized line, until Flynn attempted conversation once more, “You were right, you know?”

 

“Hmmm?” muttered Lucy, still looking at the television screen, “Right about what?

 

“I don’t know you…but I guess what I meant that day was, I’d like to get to know you.  But I understand if you don’t want that.”

 

Lucy cast a sideways glance at him and said nothing for a while.  Her mind was wrapped up the enigma that was Flynn.  Why she gave her journal to him of all people was still such a mystery to her…and yet now, even after all of his pronouncements he had made for a better part of a year, he was sitting here admitting that he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did.  “So…what you’re really saying is…” Lucy murmured with her chin still resting on her hand, “I’m not like the Lucy in the journal….is that it?”

 

“The Lucy in the journal is very impressive.” Flynn said with a nod.  “She makes me look like a Boy Scout.”

 

Lucy shifted uncomfortably next to him.  It had always bugged her when Flynn spoke of the journal version of herself.  It was disconcerting enough to know that in some dystopian future she had supposedly written this journal and risked everything to hand it off to Garcia Flynn…but to consider the idea that she had been more ruthless and deadly than Flynn himself?   What on Earth had happened to her to make her that way?  She wasn’t a killer. 

 

But just as that thought passed through her mind, an unmistakable pang of guilt shot through her heart as memories of a pleading WWI soldier and an unarmed Jesse James found their way to the forefront of her consciousness. 

 

Swallowing hard, but determined to get some answers, Lucy observed, “You said once before that you and I would be quite the team one day.  I’m guessing that you didn’t mean this?” She said with a nervous chuckle, “Or were cold showers in a rusty bunker and dinners made up of Spaghetti’O’s and meatballs all part of the grand future you described that night at the Hindenburg?”

 

Flynn brought his beer bottle down from his lips, “Some things didn’t turn out exactly as I expected, no.”

 

Lucy turned her face back to the television with a triumphant smirk on her face, remembering Wyatt’s speech to her after the 1754 mission, _If you don’t like the future Flynn has planned out for you, then rewrite it._   And so, it seemed she had...but had she done it for the better?

 

As of right now, the man she loved was gone…possibly for good.  If she had indeed tried to change her future, then why wouldn’t she have warned herself about all of this?

 

With some hesitancy, Lucy muttered, “Did…did…” she heaved a heavy sigh, “Was this the same?”

 

Flynn chuckled, “Watching a movie with me?”

 

Lucy sighed, “You know what I mean.” she said firmly, before taking a steadying breath and clarifying, “Wyatt.  Did he leave…then?”

 

Flynn frowned before stating after a long while, “Not in the same way.”  

 

Lucy's heart plummeted to her stomach.  So Wyatt had left her before...and it seemed he always would...for Jessica.  Maybe she had been wrong...maybe Jessica's death wasn't fate.  Maybe this wasn't what she was trying to change at all...though she couldn't imagine any version of herself not being completely heartbroken over it.  

 

Flynn cast a sideways glance her way and sighed, “I tried to tell Wyatt in 1972.”

 

“You tried to tell him what?” Lucy asked her attention turned fully to Flynn.

 

He cleared his throat and shifted slightly, “I read him what you wrote in the journal.  That he needed to get over Jessica and move on.” He nodded as he took another drink of beer, “Obviously, he didn’t listen.”

 

Lucy gaped at Flynn.  So, she had wrote about Jessica in the journal…and Wyatt knew it?  Funny that he never breathed a word to her about it.  She wondered what he must have thought of her at the time…they were hardly a team then…in fact, it was after that mission that Wyatt was so furious with…

 

Realization dawned on Lucy’s face and she let out a small gasp that had Flynn turning to her in interest, “What’s the matter?”

 

“Nothing.” Lucy muttered as she took a small swig of her beer.  “I just…figured something out…I think.”  She cleared her throat, “I’m guessing he didn’t appreciate the advice…particularly coming from you.”

 

“But it didn’t come from me.” Flynn countered meaningfully, “I showed it to him…your words, your handwriting…warning him that he needed to move on from Jessica.” Flynn scoffed, “And now Rittenhouse has exploited his weakness.”   

 

“I don’t think we can blame him for that.” Lucy said softly.  “What would you do if Rittenhouse brought your wife and daughter back from the dead?”  She cast a sideways glance towards him, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t be so overwhelmed with gratitude to have them back in your arms again that you would…” she bit her lip and shifted awkwardly, “you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same thing Wyatt has done.”

 

Flynn frowned slightly in thought, but said no more so Lucy turned back to the movie, though her thoughts were no longer on the budding romance of Ellie Andrews and Peter Warne.  Instead, she was thinking about Wyatt and what Flynn had told her.  Obviously, Jessica’s return had caused her enough grief to write about it in her journal.  If he had also left in the other timeline, no matter if the circumstances were different or not, the end result was the same.  He was gone.  Fate, it seemed, was not on her side.  Heaving a heavy sigh, she removed her feet from the coffee table and tucked them underneath her, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the thought of going on without his steady and sure presence by her side.

 

She blinked back tears as she tried to focus her attention on the movie, but the feeble “wall of Jericho” separating the twin beds of the socialite and down on his luck reporter transported her back to Arkansas 1934. 

 

_There’s a couple billion people in the world and they’re the only ones for each other?  What are the odds?_

_What?  You’re all about fate and destiny except when it comes to love?_

 

_If there’s only one person in the world for you in the whole world and you lose them, does that mean that you have to live the rest of your life without anyone else?  I think you, we, anyone has to be open to possibilities._

_Possibilities of what?_

_I don’t know, I just know I’m not ready to say goodbye yet._

 

“Lucy?”

 

She awoke with a start, her eyes darting around the darkened living area.  The television had been turned off and the blanket that had been haphazardly draped over her was now falling to the floor as she scrambled to a sitting position.  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness and the foggy remnants of sleep began to lift from her mind, she startled to find Wyatt standing a few feet away from her. 

 

“Wyatt.” she breathed out, her voice hitching with emotion.  “Wh…what time is it?”

 

He sighed as he looked at his watch, “Um…2 in the morning.”

 

“Oh.” Lucy groaned as she rolled her neck, her muscles screaming in pain from the awkward position she had been laying in.  “Wh…what are you doing here?” she asked as she stifled a yawn.  “I…I thought you’d be…I mean, I didn’t expect to see you…”

 

“Lucy,” Wyatt said as he made a tentative step towards her, “can we talk?  Please?”

 

Lucy nodded as she stood up awkwardly from the couch, desperate to do something to quell the mounting anxieties that had awoken at the sight of him.  “Sure…let me just…um…let me make some tea.”  She made her way into the kitchen, keenly aware that Wyatt’s eyes were following her every move as she prepared her cup.  He slowly approached, as if unsure of what to do with himself, until he finally set to pacing slowly in front of the table waiting for Lucy to give him her full and undivided attention.  His actions, however, only served to make Lucy all the more nervous.  For him to suddenly make a reappearance in the bunker in the dead of night after a week of nothing?  What could it possibly mean?  After she finished steeping her tea, she turned to him abruptly and asked, “Why are you here, Wyatt?”

 

“I live here.” he said with a hint of a smirk, but at Lucy’s admonishing gaze, he cleared his throat and amended, “I…I know I’ve been gone for a while, but Lucy…I just needed some time alone to figure all of this out.”

 

“Alone?” The hopeful question was out of her mouth before she could even stop herself. 

 

Wyatt, however, didn’t seem to mind her tone one bit.  In fact, he reinforced it by firmly confirming, “Yes.  Alone.  I…uh…I’ve been staying at a motel.” he explained, “while I worked through all of this.”  He fidgeted nervously before adding, “Ag…Agent Christopher promised to tell me if Rittenhouse jumped…I…I was never…I mean, I would never…”

 

“Oh.” Lucy muttered as she pressed her lips to her mug, trying to hide her unspoken relief that Wyatt hadn’t been spending the last week wrapped up in the arms of his undead wife.  “She never said…” Lucy tried to explain, “I mean…I wasn’t sure if you were coming back.” 

 

“I’m sorry about that, Lucy…I just…” he bit his lip nervously, “I thought staying away would make things easier.”

 

Lucy swallowed hard as she tightened the grip she had on her mug, hoping that it would conceal the shaking in her hands.   

 

Wyatt anxiously stepped forward, taking care to keep a respectable distance between them, as he expounded, “I..uh…I saw Jessica.”  Tears sprang to his eyes and his voice was wrought with emotion as he went on to describe their reunion, “It’s really her…I couldn’t believe it…she looks just as she did, her hair is a little different, but…”

 

“I’m thrilled for you, Wyatt.” Lucy nodded, fighting back her own tears as she turned back to the counter with her mug of tea. 

 

“No, Lucy…wait, please.” Wyatt begged as he pulled out a chair for Lucy.  She sighed as she reluctantly took a seat.  “The entire time I sat there with her…it was like…no time had passed.  The things I had forgotten, the marriage counseling sessions, the fights…everything was the same.”  Wyatt swallowed hard, “I…our marriage wasn’t happy...not like I had said...ya know, before."  Lucy stared back at him blankly which made Wyatt shift uncomfortably before continuing,  "It was my fault…mostly…I know I could have been a better husband.  I was never there...”

 

“But, you have time to change that now.” Lucy offered.  “Who you were then is not who you are now.”

 

Wyatt nodded, “I know.  But Lucy…”

 

“This is everything you ever wanted, everything you ever hoped for.” Lucy nodded, “When she sees how much you love her…”  Lucy offered him a wan smile, “Don’t worry about things here…you…you just focus on working things out with Jessica.” 

 

“Lucy,” Wyatt groaned in frustration, “Will you just listen?  Please?”  Lucy stared up at him and nodded slowly.  Wyatt sighed heavily, “I lived with six years of guilt, Lucy…six years of thinking over what I could have done differently. But then I come into this timeline and the six years she had spent with me were…apparently even worse.”    

 

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked. 

 

“I don’t know.” he sighed as he sank down in a chair, “She described…someone I never thought I would be.”  He held his head in his hands and rubbed rough circles on his forehead.

 

Lucy looked at him with concern, “Wyatt?”

 

“I always thought if that night had gone differently,” he said more to his hands than to her, “that we would have survived the lowest point in our marriage.  I mean,” he chuckled dryly “when things are so bad you leave your wife on the side of the road, there’s nowhere to go but up, right?” He scoffed, “Jessica was right, I did put our marriage on a pedestal….it wasn’t perfect, not even close.”

 

“No marriage is, Wyatt…you’re being too hard on yourself.” Lucy consoled.  “What did Jessica have to say about all of this?”

 

 She kept telling me she didn’t want to be married to a state secret…and well, I knew…”

 

Lucy sat waiting for him to expound on that statement, not wanting to interrupt him yet again, but as no further explanation seemed forthcoming she asked with hesitancy, “You knew what?”

 

“That I didn’t want that for her either.”  After a few moments of heavy silence, Wyatt sighed and pulled a rolled up manila envelope from his pocket and handed it over to her.

 

Looking at him warily, Lucy took the envelope from his hands, opening it up to find, “Divorce papers.” she muttered as her eyes darted to his. She shook her head in confusion, “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

 

“She had already signed them, Lucy.”  Wyatt said as he nodded towards the divorce papers. 

 

Lucy stared at the divorce papers before her, hardly believing that after all of this time, Wyatt was willing to give up the woman he had repeatedly declared himself wholly committed to…the woman who was the only one in the world for him.  “Wyatt, are…are you sure this is what you want to do?” she asked with concern.  “You’ve had six years apart…of course there’s going to be some rough patches to work through.”

 

Wyatt stared at her blankly, “Lucy…I thought you’d be happy about this?” he asked in bewilderment.

 

Lucy sighed out in exasperation, “Of course I’m not happy.  Wyatt…you’re talking about throwing away the second chance you dreamed of.”  He made to argue with her but she shook her head, “I’m just afraid that one day…you might regret this.”  She looked away suddenly embarrassed as Wyatt gave her an affronted glare.  “I mean, she’s your lightning bolt.”

 

“My what?” he asked in bewilderment. 

 

Lucy stared back at him in irritated confusion, “Your lightning bolt.” She flushed slightly as she expounded in embarrassment, “You know, the sign from the heavens…”

 

He let out a derisive laugh as he shook his head furiously, “No, she wasn’t, Lucy.” he said a little louder than he intended, his face shining with something that looked an awful lot like amusement. 

 

Lucy tilted her head and glared at him sardonically, “Yes, she was, Wyatt…you told me so, that night with Bonnie and Clyde.

 

“No, I didn’t.” Wyatt argued as he shook his head at her determinedly. 

 

“Yes, you did.” Lucy shot back annoyed that Wyatt would dare argue about this with her. Did he not realize that she had replayed that night over and over again in her mind until she had almost the entire mission committed to memory?  Lucy glared at him as she continued with a slight shake to her voice, “It was right after you told your engagement story…”

 

Wyatt huffed out an exasperated breath and argued, “Yes…and right after I kissed _you.”_

 

Lucy gaped at him.

 

“That kiss that “didn’t mean anything?”” Wyatt asked with a scoff as Lucy cast her eyes down, reliving the other conversation they had had that evening.  Wyatt had approached her, nervous and embarrassed, telling her in no uncertain terms did that kiss, that had turned her world upside down and inside out, hold any special meaning for him. 

 

That’s why his next few words completely floored her.

 

“It meant everything to me.” Wyatt admitted softly, hardly daring to meet Lucy’s stunned expression.  Amazed at the emotion in Wyatt’s eyes, Lucy sat back, astounded, as he cast his glance to the floor and explained further, “You were talking about fate and destiny and how you had never had the lightning bolt from the heavens…well, I had.”  Wyatt nodded as he looked at her, “That night.” 

 

Hardly believing what she was hearing, Lucy pushed back from the table, “What?  No…no you were talking about Jessica.” she maintained. 

 

“Dammit, Lucy…I was talking about you.”  Wyatt spat out in frustration…more at himself than at Lucy who had gasped at the force of his confession.  If Wyatt noticed, he didn’t let on, he was rubbing a rough hand across his forehead, his jaw tense and his face flushed with a sudden embarrassment.  “I just…didn’t admit it because it didn’t seem like you felt the same way.”  He shook his head ruefully, “Hell, you were engaged.”

 

If it had been possible to actually knock someone over with a feather, Lucy was sure that she would have been a viable candidate for said toppling.  In no universe could she have ever imagined that in that impossibly tiny bed in 1934 Arkansas, Wyatt had been referring to her.  She had replayed that kiss and conversation so many times in her mind since that night; kicking herself for stupidly talking about possibilities when Wyatt had just been talking about his engagement to his…well, what she had believed at the time, lightning bolt.  She sat staring at Wyatt, her mind attempting to wrap itself around the idea that she, not Jessica, had been the sign from the heavens…and no matter how much she tried to believe it, she just could not.

 

“Wait a minute.” Lucy said as she leapt up from the chair and braced herself against the kitchen counter, “I remember that conversation like it was yesterday…”

 

“So do I.” Wyatt countered with a smirk, “You asked me if I could believe how Bonnie and Clyde were together and I told you it was obvious they were in love.” Lucy nodded as Wyatt continued, “Then I asked you how you could believe in fate and destiny except when it comes to love and you said…”

 

“That I had seen attraction and chemistry, but no lightning bolt from the heavens.” Lucy maintained.  “But then you…” Wyatt shook his head and Lucy was suddenly taken back to that tiny bed in Arkansas in 1934.  They had been impossibly close, forced to listen to the moans and sighs emanating from the notorious gangster couple on the other side of that ineffective “wall of Jericho” when Wyatt had responded that he had seen the lightning bolt from the heavens…because it had happened to him.  He didn’t elaborate…and Lucy had assumed that he had meant Jessica.

 

Why wouldn’t she?  

 

As Lucy stared blankly back at him, Wyatt’s smirk formed into a full-fledged grin as he leaned backwards in his chair, “I told you I didn’t say that.” he said in a voice dripping with such smugness, Lucy couldn’t help but roll her eyes. 

 

All this time she had believed that she could never mean the same to Wyatt as his late wife…and now he was telling her that Jessica wasn’t the one he was referring to that night?   No.  It didn’t make sense.   “Are you telling me that…” she scoffed in disbelief as she ran her hand through her hair and began pacing, “Wyatt…you risked everything to get her back…you stole the LifeBoat for heaven’s sake.”

 

“Lucy, do you know how guilty I felt after that kiss?”  he asked roughly as he leaned forward.  “I had just finished talking about the day I got engaged to Jessica...I wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything towards anyone…least of all you.  I mean, you were engaged.”

 

“But Noah…”

 

“Lucy, you had just gone out on a date with the guy.” Wyatt reminded her.  “You weren’t exactly available.”

 

Lucy stopped pacing and stared at him as rested his elbows on his knees, contemplating his next words as if in prayer, “Besides, I had told myself after Jessica died, that I didn’t deserve a second chance at…this.  That it couldn’t happen.”  He passed a rough hand over his face as he continued, “This mission changed all of that.  With a time machine, I thought…maybe I had could have that chance, after all.”  He let out a small laugh, “And then I kissed you and my entire world flipped upside down.”

 

Lucy felt tears burning in her eyes as Wyatt continued, “I tried to fight it…I didn’t think someone like you would have anything to do with a reckless hothead like me” he said softly, lifting the corner of his mouth in a slight smirk.  “I sure as hell never imagined falling head over heels for a bossy know it all.” 

 

Lucy stared back at him, her chest rising and falling heavily as she fought to maintain her composure. 

 

“When Flynn took off with you, Lucy…I nearly went out of my damned mind and I knew then, that I had to figure things out.”

 

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, almost leveling him with a piercing gaze, “So…so all of that talk about stealing the LifeBoat being worth losing…” she wanted to say _me,_ but couldn’t quite find the courage – which was ridiculous after everything Wyatt had just told her.  So instead, she reworded her question.  “If I was your lightning bolt then why did you steal the LifeBoat?  If you knew then...” she began to cry as the memory of that painful night replayed in her mind, “why did you say having Jessica back would be worth any bad thing that could happen to you? 

 

“Because I had convinced myself it was the right thing to do.  All those years of guilt?  I felt like I owed Jessica something…a chance to live the life she should have had.” He nodded thoughtfully, “I thought it was just my own heart I was risking that night…it wasn’t until you…” he cast his eyes to the floor unable to look at Lucy without the pain of remembering the anguish in her face that night, “I never wanted to hurt you, Lucy.” 

 

She nodded as silent tears began to fall from her eyes.  Wyatt scoffed as he made his way over to her, “I know I said I had to try…and I did, for my own damn conscience, but Lucy…don’t believe for one second that I haven’t regretted everything I said and did that night.” 

 

“You…you did what you needed to do, Wyatt.  I can’t hold that against you.”

 

Wyatt let out a small laugh, “I call bullshit on that one ma’am.”

 

Lucy looked up at him, “What?  Why?  I _haven’t_ held that against you.”

 

“Liar.” he said with a soft smirk as he brushed his fingers over her cheek, “You were so convinced I would abandon you again for Jessica, you basically pushed me out of the bunker door.”

 

Lucy frowned at him seriously, “I just didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t have that second chance, Wyatt…this was something you wanted for so long.”

 

“And I appreciate that Lucy, more than you will ever know.” Wyatt nodded seriously, “But I have no regrets.”  Lucy nodded while he cupped his hands along her face and leaned his forehead to hers, “I love you, Lucy Preston.” he whispered softly.

 

Tears spilled out onto Lucy’s cheeks as she reached her hands up to clasp his, terrified that at any moment she might wake up to find this whole thing had been the result of some sleep-deprived fantasy.  Feeling his calloused thumbs caress her temples and the warmth of his hands on her cheeks, however, worked to convince her that this was no dream.  Wyatt was actually here…with her...and she was the one he had chosen.  She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and murmured against them “And I love you, Wyatt Logan.”

 

Lucy was unable to do or say much else as Wyatt ghosted his lips over her face, intoxicating her with every gentle pass of his lips over hers until finally his hands drifted from her waist to hair, pulling her in for one long, slow, passionate kiss that left Lucy a little breathless and weak in the knees. 

 

Seeing that she had no objection to the kiss, Wyatt twirled her around, walking her backwards, the two of them kissing and clawing at each other as they stumbled their way down the hall towards the bedroom.  They were just outside of her door when Wyatt pressed Lucy firmly against the wall, kissing his way down her neck as he gasped out, “Do you know how hard it was to keep away from you for a whole damn week?”

 

Lucy reclaimed his mouth with hers, but as his hands traveled underneath the hem of her shirt and skimmed along the bare skin of her back, she pulled away from him with a gasp, “Wait…wait a minute.” she stammered breathlessly as she pressed his chest away from her, “You’re still married.”

 

Wyatt groaned as he dropped his forehead against her shoulder, “Yes, but I’m taking care of that, Lucy.  I’ve already signed the papers.”

 

He leaned back in her for a kiss, but she shook her head at him, the hint of a smile on her face as she maintained, “Mr. Logan, legally, you are still a married man.  Which means, technically…you are very much off-limits.”  Wyatt groaned again as he looked at her with pleading eyes, but Lucy was determined, “Wyatt…do you really want to flirt with temptation?”  

 

“If I say yes would you hold it against me?” Wyatt returned with a devilish smirk, but Lucy’s admonishing glare had him clearing his throat and stepping away from her respectfully.  “Sorry about that, ma’am.” he said with a slight bow as she stepped away from him.  “You’re right…I don’t want to flirt with temptation, I want to…”

 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Wyatt Logan.” Lucy admonished as he raised his eyebrows at her.  “What would everybody think?”

 

“I don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks, Lucy.” Wyatt stated simply as he snaked his arms around her waist.  But as she continued to offer him a reproving glare, he bowed his head, “Fine.” he muttered in defeat, “I guess, I’ll go take a nice, cold shower.  Alone.”

 

Lucy grinned at him, “I think that sounds like an excellent idea.”

 

“You know…if you decided to take a shower too…for purely conservational reasons...I don’t think anyone would hold it against you.” he called after her as she turned to enter her room. 

 

“Goodnight, Wyatt.” she said firmly over her shoulder. 

 

Wyatt shrugged as he backed away, not taking his eyes off of Lucy as she turned and watched him from her open door.  With a flirtatious smirk, he muttered, “I guess I’ll see you around the bunker, then…baby doll.”

 

Lucy nodded at him as she backed herself away to her own room, teasing playfully, “See you around the bunker…sweetheart.”   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jessica is still awful...and I'd like to apologize for that, but I won't...because she's freaking awful. The next chapter will delve into that a little bit more, but for now, I just wanted to revisit that hotel room scene with a bit of Wyatt's introspective. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update. I have favorite chapters in all of my stories and this one, I think, is my favorite for this particular fic. The whole lightning bolt thing came from a discussion a few of us were having one day...I think Tish started it where we realize that Wyatt never answers her in the Bonnie and Clyde scene. He only says, it happened to him and then sort of frowns and looks a bit embarrassed...so I brought that beautiful theory in here because now I can't watch Bonnie and Clyde without thinking that that was lightning bolt he was talking about. We know from Arika that they both KNEW after that kiss, so there you have it. 
> 
> I revisited baby doll and sweetheart because as heart breaking as that scene is in 2x05, I loved that callback so much...so I wanted to do it again in here, but under VERY different circumstances. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update! Torrent is coming along, but I'm stuck on a narrative issue....I can't decide which way I want to go with it...and since it's the FINAL update, I'm really stressing over it, so I'm letting it sit for a bit until I'm a bit more confident in the way I want it to go. (I have it all plotted out it's just the HOW they get there that's the issue....I'm at a fork in the road with my narrative choices and I want to make the one that I feel fits best.) 
> 
> Thank you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate your feedback so much!


	14. Malice and Manipulation

“You’re back?!”

 

Groaning, Wyatt opened a pair of bleary eyes, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, until his vision cleared and focused in on a pajama clad Rufus who was gaping at him like a kid on Christmas morning. 

 

“Hello, Rufus.” Wyatt murmured sleepily in acknowledgement before he rolled away from him and nestled himself deeper into the covers.  

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Sleeping, Rufus…I thought that was obvious?”

 

“I realize that, but…”

 

 “Ugh” Wyatt groaned.  He yawned violently and flipped back over to his other side to face a still gaping Rufus. “What time is it, anyway?” he complained.

 

“Uhhh…six o’ clock” Rufus answered before asking in an accusatory tone, “Does Lucy know you’re here?”

 

Wyatt sighed in frustration, “What do you think?”

 

“I’m thinking you’re sleeping in the wrong damn room.” Rufus observed matter of factly, “Please do not tell me you are working things out with…” Rufus faltered.  There were a lot of words he wanted to use to describe Wyatt’s currently undead spouse but, unsure of their present relationship, he thought he better not risk an ass kicking.  He cleared his throat and continued, “With _your wife_ and living down here with Lucy…because I can’t even begin to tell you how messed up that is.” 

 

Wyatt rolled onto his back in exasperation and threw the covers down away from his chest, “You’re right, that would be pretty messed up, Rufus…but you know what else is pretty messed up?”  Wyatt didn’t wait for Rufus’ response before spitting out, “Not taking a hint and letting me get some damn sleep.”

 

“Oh, I get,” Rufus muttered as he made his way to the door, “you’re in the dog house.”  He nodded as Wyatt let out another sigh of exasperation and dove under the covers once more, “You know, that tends to happen when you don’t call your girlfriend for a week.”

 

As much as Wyatt would have loved to correct his friend and team mate, he was far too exhausted to even care. “Rufus…” he growled out in warning.

 

“Okay, okay…I’m leaving.  Rufus muttered as he wrenched open the door to their room.  “Seriously though, man…I’m glad you’re back.  I was really sweating it there for while thinking we were going to have to rely on Flynn for protection.”

 

“RUFUS!” Wyatt spat out in exasperation but he had already made his escape, narrowly missing the pillow Wyatt had chunked his way. 

  

Wyatt collapsed back onto his cot, the sleep deprivation he suffered over the last week had caught up with him, leaving his entire body feeling like it was made of lead.  As much as he wanted to close his eyes and melt back into sweet oblivion, however, he could not.  Being back in the bunker, back with Lucy, proved to be too much of an enticement to keep him relegated to his own cot for long.   So, forming a plan, he rolled out of bed and lumbered his way into the kitchen. 

 

Whipping up a breakfast was one of Wyatt’s favorite domestic things to do.  Even when he was married to Jessica, breakfast was the one meal he consistently made whenever he was home. After his week-long absence, he figured Rufus was right, he needed to make it up to her…well, to all of them.      

 

“Decided to come crawling back to the bunker, I see?”

 

Okay…everyone except Garcia Flynn. 

 

Wyatt turned to face his tall nemesis, spatula in hand, “What’s it to you?” he asked gruffly.  It was too damn early and he was too damn tired to deal with Garcia Flynn’s bullshit. 

 

“It’s nothing to me.” Flynn said with a shrug, “But I suspect it will mean an awful lot to Lucy.”  Wyatt turned back to his eggs as Flynn observed him with a wary eye, “Does she know?”

 

‘Why the hell does everyone keep asking me that?” Wyatt spat out in exasperation.  “Yes, alright?  She knows.  I talked to her last night.”  He transferred the eggs from the frying plan onto a large plate and began work on the bacon wishing Flynn would take a hint and leave him the hell alone.

 

“And…I’m assuming you have done the right thing?  Ended things with your wife?  Or did she kick you out when she found out you uh…haven’t been exactly faithful?”

 

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Wyatt gritted out angrily.  “It’s not like I meant to…” he bit his lip and mustered all the self-control he possessed before spitting out, “You know what Flynn, it’s none of your damn business.”

 

“Oh, I think it’s very much my business.” Flynn retorted as he began pouring himself a cup of coffee.  “Rittenhouse brought her back for a reason, and until we know what that reason is, I just want to make sure you’re not cavorting with the enemy.”  Flynn took a sip from his mug, “Can’t have you compromised by yet another woman.”

 

If a freshly showered Rufus hadn’t made his way into the kitchen at that exact moment, Wyatt was positive he would have honored his 2016 objective and killed Garcia Flynn.  As far as he was concerned, Flynn didn’t belong there anyway…he had only gone along with the plan to bring him into the bunker in the first place because Lucy had suggested it.

 

Shit. 

 

Flynn was right…he was compromised where Lucy was concerned.

 

But that didn’t mean he was right about Jessica.  

 

“Eggs and bacon?” Rufus asked with wide eyes, “Have I told you how glad I am to have you back?” He snuck a piece of bacon out of the pan and turned to Flynn, “You’re out of moisturizer by the way.”

 

Flynn shook his head and growled under his breath, as he stalked back to his room. 

 

Wyatt transferred the bacon onto another platter and began making up a plate, smacking Rufus’ hand away as he tried to steal more food.  “This is not for you.” He motioned to the larger platters, “Make your own damn plate.”

 

Rufus heaved a heavy sigh and pulled a small plate from the cupboard, watching Wyatt as he made a cup of coffee…just the way Lucy liked it.  “So…um…was Lucy happy to see you?”

 

Wyatt grunted his response, as he stirred in the coffee creamer.

 

“I guess you’ll be wanting the room back the way you had it?” Rufus asked, still pressing for information. 

 

“No.” Wyatt said nonchalantly as he grabbed some napkins and silverware, “Not yet, anyway.”

 

“Uh-huh…” Rufus nodded as he watched Wyatt carefully balance the plate, the mug, and the silverware and make his way out of the kitchen and down the hall towards Lucy’s room.  “Oh yeah, he’s definitely in the dog house.” he muttered to himself. 

 

Wyatt approached Lucy’s room tentatively, forgetting with a small jolt of panic, that Jiya was sleeping in there with her.  He had just spun around to leave when he saw Jiya emerge from the bathroom, making her way to the common room.  Taking that as the all clear, Wyatt gently pushed the door open and made his way inside the room, going as silently as he could possibly manage so as not to wake her. 

 

Lucy, however, was not asleep. 

 

She was changing clothes, her back to the door, but very much in a state of undress….and Wyatt found that he was exercising a hell of a lot of self-control not to just forget about the breakfast and have Lucy instead. 

 

He was just debating whether to announce his presence or slip back out of the room and knock, when Lucy somehow got tangled up in the depths of her sweater, unable to pull it down over her head.  “Dammit.” he heard her breathe out a curse as she wriggled and writhed in front of him…and well, while he was a master at self-control, if she continued to do that, he was going to have to take another damn cold shower. 

 

Depositing the plate of eggs and her coffee on the table, Wyatt rushed to her aid, but as he gripped at her sweater, Lucy startled and nearly toppled over, “Relax, Lucy…it’s just me.” Wyatt breathed out as he tried, but failed to stifle a laugh, gripping her around her bare waist so she wouldn’t find herself sprawled on the floor. 

 

“Wyatt?! What are you doing in here?” she hissed.

 

“Right now?  I’m keeping you from falling on your ass.” he answered as he tugged her sweater down and over her head.  She brushed her mussed hair out of her eyes and looked up at him accusingly, but he nodded to the table, “But before, I came to bring you breakfast…ma’am.”

 

“Oh.” Lucy muttered as she eyed the plate of eggs, “You didn’t have to….” she began, but bit her lip in a happy smirk, “thank you, Wyatt.”   

 

“My pleasure…though I should be thanking you.” he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into her neck, kissing her jaw, “That was quite a show you put on Ms. Preston…I’m wide awake now.”

 

“I’m sure you are.” Lucy said as she wriggled away from his wandering lips slightly, “Didn’t we talk about this?” 

 

“Talk about what?” Wyatt asked with a shrug, his face dipping dangerously close to hers again. 

 

Lucy, however, arched away and gave him a reproving glare, “This” she said motioning between them, “you and me…the…fact that you are married and that makes things…”

 

“Just the same as they were before.” Wyatt maintained as he nodded meaningfully at her.

 

“It’s not the same, Wyatt.” Lucy reminded him.  “Your wife isn’t dead anymore.”

 

“I’m getting divorced, Lucy…I think a peck on the cheek in the morning is perfectly fine between two roommates.”

 

“Oh really?   Tell me, did you kiss Rufus this morning?”  she asked with a quirked brow.

 

“Hell no.” Wyatt admitted truthfully, “that asshole woke me up…but I _will_ kiss him if it means I can kiss you.”

 

“Wyatt…” Lucy groaned, though she had a smile firmly planted on her face. 

 

“C’mon Lucy.” Wyatt groaned right back, “Nothing has changed between us.  I love you, you love me…Jessica may be alive, but Lucy, that…that marriage died a long time ago.”  He wrapped her back up in his arms and touched his forehead to hers, “I’m not asking for much, just a kiss here and there so I don’t internally combust.” he pleaded.

 

Lucy sighed, feeling herself very much in danger of just giving in and throwing morality and human decency out of the window, but that was just it…she couldn’t.  She loved Wyatt too much to allow him to essentially and effectively cheat on his once dead spouse…even if they were headed for divorce.  However, she also knew that the upcoming days and nights in the bunker would be very, very long and they wouldn’t be the only ones navigating the mine field of their sexual and romantic tension…everybody would be dealing with the side effects that would surely come as a result of their imposed abstinence.

 

Relenting somewhat, with a sigh, Lucy allowed Wyatt to continue his ministrations to her neck and jaw as she muttered, “I suppose we can set up a few ground rules…”

 

                                                            *****************

 

“So, separate bedrooms?” Wyatt asked again as he trailed after her down the hall, disappointment etched all over his face.  “You do realize there are two beds…we don’t have to push them together.”

 

Lucy stilled and offered him a reproving stare, “Wyatt...it’s for our own good.  We don’t need to be tempted into...” She shifted uncomfortably, checking to see if anyone was near enough to hear before continuing, ‘I mean...what happened this morning could be a regular...problem.”

 

“You’ll get no complaints from me.” Wyatt as a devilish grin spread across his face. 

 

She rolled her eyes at him and made her back into the common room, where Rufus and Jiya were huddled together talking excitedly…that is…until Wyatt and Lucy approached. 

 

“Hey you two.” Rufus said with a grin.  “Enjoy your breakfast?  I guess you’ll be wanting your old room back, huh Lucy?”

 

Lucy turned and gave Wyatt an “I told you so” glare before turning back to Rufus awkwardly, “No…actually.  Wyatt and I were just talking about that.” She nodded in determination as she cast a sideways glance at Wyatt, “We think it’s best to keep to our separate rooms until everything with his divorce is finalized.”

 

“Pay up.” Jiya announced with a triumphant smirk on her face, holding out a hand in expectation to Rufus. 

 

As Rufus begrudgingly slapped a $5.00 bill in her hand, Lucy quirked her brow, “What’s…what’s going on?  What is that about?”

 

Jiya shrugged, “Just a little bet I had with Rufus.  Clearly I know you better than he does.”

 

“That’s bull.” Rufus spat out loudly.  “Do you know I walked in on them in Hedy Lamarr’s guest house?  These two may not have been happening in your timeline, but they sure as hell were happening in mine.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t say they weren’t happening.” Jiya quipped as she stuffed the $5.00 in the pocket of her jeans.  “They just weren’t _happening_.”

 

Lucy scrunched up her face in confusion as she traded glances with Wyatt and then turned to Rufus and Jiya, “What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Well, you know…” Jiya said with a shrug, “Wyatt was married…and you two are super noble.”  At their blank expressions she continued, “Look, it was clear that you and Wyatt had feelings for each other…you just never acted on them.  Wyatt was trying to work things out with his wife…that is, until the explosion.  But even after all of that…even with you two living together…nothing.”

 

As much as Wyatt wanted to believe everything Jiya was saying, Jessica’s accusatory words came back to him like a dagger in the heart.  _How many affairs does this make now, Wyatt?_ Shifting uncomfortably, Wyatt mumbled, “How…how do you know…we didn’t ya know…”

 

“Because this bunker is not that big, Wyatt.” Jiya deadpanned.  “Anytime you two got a little too close, you’d both retreat to your respective rooms and play it off like you were just friends.  Friends who constantly looked like they were pining for each other, I might add.”

 

“Yeah…but I mean, before?  We could have…I mean...before we were in the bunker.”

 

Jiya laughed, “Hardly.  You two danced around each other, but neither one of you would admit to it.  If anything had changed between the two of you, we would have all noticed.”  She laughed, “You two defined sexual tension.”

 

Wyatt bit his lip in thought.  If he had fallen for Lucy while he was married to Jessica was it any wonder she believed he was having an affair?  After everything he had already put her through…  

 

“What’s wrong, Wyatt?” Lucy asked in concern as Wyatt sat down at the table rubbing a rough hand over his forehead. 

 

Lucy took a seat beside him and rubbed her small hand gently on his back, as Rufus and Jiya took seats across from him, their faces at once reflecting the sudden somberness of Wyatt’s demeanor.  Wyatt worked his hand over his jaw as if debating whether or not to disclose his concerns, but seeing no one else lurking around the bunker, he leaned forward and tentatively began in a low voice, “Jessica…she said something when I met her at the hotel.”  He turned his head slightly towards Lucy, nodding at her meaningfully as he swallowed hard, “when she...talked about the Wyatt she knew…” he scoffed, “I thought I had ended up like my old man in this timeline.”  Lucy, understanding what Wyatt was implying there, dropped her hand from his back and gripped his hand tightly as he continued.  “It’s just…if what you’re saying is true…then…Jessica…she wasn’t completely wrong…I as good as cheated on her.”

 

Jiya quirked her brow and muttered softly, “Or she lied.”   But Wyatt, however, was not amused. 

 

Bristling defensively, Wyatt pushed away from the table, “Look, you have no idea what she went through with our marriage…I…I could have been a better husband…and maybe, maybe she just assumed with the long absences…” he scoffed, “You know what?  Just forget about it.” 

 

Storming off down the hall, Lucy raced to catch up with him.  “Hey,” she prompted gently as she reached out and took his hand.  “Jiya didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

Wyatt begrudgingly turned to face her, looking as if he were fighting a heavy inner battle, But Lucy…” he hesitated, whatever his inner conflict, he seemed to relent with a heavy sigh as he leaned forward and whispered, “Did I ever tell you what happened the night Jessica died?  Why we had that fight?”

 

Lucy shook her head, “No…but Wyatt…it’s okay..I don’t…”

 

“She ran into an old boyfriend…uh…” Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck roughly, obviously uneasy talking about a night that had caused him so much pain, “she uh… _she_ wasn’t faithful, Lucy.  I came home from a deployment…and there he was.”  Wyatt huffed out a breath, “I don’t blame her…I never blamed her…I was gone all the time, she was lonely…I get it...but I was jealous.  And that jealousy got her killed.” 

 

“Wyatt…”

 

““But now…I find out in this timeline for the past six years, I’ve been a drunken asshole like my dad was…coming home drunk every night, jealous and…she said I was unfaithful…”

 

“Wyatt, that’s not who you are.” Lucy countered a look of confusion on her face.

 

“I know…but she doesn’t know that…and maybe because of what happened between us before…what if I _did_ …ya know?  Before I met you, I mean…what if I am every bit the man I swore I’d never be?  Drinking all the time?  Womanizing?  I don’t know…like to get back at her or something?”

 

“No…Wyatt I don’t believe that for one second.” As Wyatt began to argue with her, she spoke over him, “No, I mean…even in this timeline.” Lucy argued.  “Do you honestly think Agent Christopher would have allowed you on these missions if you were…” she gave him a sardonic look, “Do you think _I_ would have put up with your drinking on these missions?”

 

A hint of a smile flitted across Wyatt’s face as he remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on Lucy Preston. 

 

_Have you been drinking?_

_Didn’t know I’d be working tonight, ma’am._

“Yeah, but Lucy…”

 

“I mean it, Wyatt.  There is no way you have been kept on these missions if any of that were true.  Especially when we were at Mason.  We were on call 24/7…you couldn’t have been the man she’s describing and still be a member of this team.”

 

Wyatt paused.  Lucy was right.  If he had been separated from Jess since just before that explosion at Mason then there was no way he would have been able to retain his place on the team by behaving that irresponsibly.  Hell, even in the military it would have garnered him an Article 15.  His eyes, filled with a mixture of hurt and astonishment, sought out Lucy’s as he asked incredulously, “Why would she lie about that?”

 

“Good morning people!” Agent Christopher barked as she made her way down the hall causing Wyatt and Lucy to jump apart in surprise. She startled slightly at the sight of Wyatt, but in the next moment had composed herself, addressing him stoically, “I see you finally came to a decision.”

 

“Yes ma’am.” Wyatt said with a nod.  Inching away from Lucy, he made his way back over to the kitchen where he had discarded his belongings the night before.  Finding the manila envelope, he handed it over to her resolutely.  “I think everything is in order here…if you uh…can help speed things along, I’d really appreciate it.” he muttered in a low voice as he cast a quick glance back towards Lucy. 

 

“I’ll see what I can do, Master Sergeant,” Agent Christopher sighed as she began perusing the paperwork, “but…well, since you’re supposed to be dead, that sort of complicates matters.  I will obviously have to have Homeland notify the Army of your protected status…and then there’s the…”

 

Agent Christopher’s abrupt stop drew concern from Wyatt, “What’s wrong?  Did I miss something?” he asked as he attempted to retrieve the papers from her hand. 

 

She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she walked over to the place at the table Wyatt had vacated.  “Wyatt,” she began, “Jessica signed these divorce papers two weeks ago.”  She looked up from the signature line and saw the sudden understanding in Wyatt’s eyes, “according to her and the rest of the world…you were supposed to be dead.”

 

“So…wait a minute…” Rufus began in confusion, “why would she need to file for divorce if she thought Wyatt was dead?”

 

“A very good question, Mr. Carlin.” Agent Christopher said with a nod of her head.

 

Shocked and horrified, Wyatt leaned against the kitchen counter for support, staring at the papers in Agent Christopher’s hand.  “No.” he shook his head adamantly, “no…she’s not…I know her…there’s no way.”

 

“No way, what?” Rufus asked in complete bewilderment. 

 

“No way his wife is a Rittenhouse agent.” Flynn called out, his voice thick with sarcasm as he sidled his way into the kitchen.  Wyatt’s eyes flashed in anger as approached the huddled group, but Flynn was not deterred in the slightest, “Why else would she carry around divorce papers for a man everyone presumed to be dead?”  Flynn frowned, “Unless the Wyatt of this timeline let her in on our little secret here.”   

 

“And why the hell would I do that?” Wyatt spat out, “You said yourself,” he said as he pointed to Jiya, “we were separated…and even Jessica…said…”  Wyatt trailed off as he paced the kitchen, rubbing his neck roughly. 

 

“She said, what?” Agent Christopher asked curiously

 

“That she didn’t want to be married to a state secret.” Wyatt admitted roughly.  “So obviously, I hadn’t told her a damn thing.  Hell, her biggest complaint to me that night was that she was tired of all the half-truths and whispered conversations.”

 

“Did she say anything else to you?” Agent Christopher asked. 

 

Wyatt stilled for a moment and glanced at Lucy who was looking back at him with nothing but sympathy.  Heaving a sigh, he hung his head and admitted quietly, “Yeah…she…she wanted me to tell her where I had been for the past five months.  But…c’mon that’s a valid question.”

 

“And you didn’t tell her, did you?” Flynn asked accusingly.

 

“What the hell do you think?” Wyatt spat out.  “Of course not.”   He shook his head and resumed his pacing, “Look, I know things look suspicious, but I don’t believe for one second…I mean, we went to high school together…” 

 

“Do we know anything about what 1980 San Diego has to do with changing the timeline?”  Lucy offered up to Mason and Agent Christopher.  “Maybe that would give us some idea of what happened…what they did to bring her back.”

 

“I haven’t been able to come up with anything concrete.” Agent Christopher said with a sigh, “Only that her brother received treatment at Rady’s Children Hospital for a few months that year.”

 

“Yeah…that was right before he died.” Wyatt muttered dejectedly.

 

“Died?  No, he’s a mechanic in Hayward.” Agent Christopher corrected.  “We did a background check on him…he’s clean.”

 

Wyatt gaped at her.  “Are you telling me her brother didn’t die of leukemia?”  Agent Christopher nodded in contemplation.  “Why the hell would that change what happened to Jessica?” Wyatt muttered almost to himself. 

 

“Well, whatever the reason, it’s clear that whatever was done was enough to make a significant change to the timeline…and I think it’s clear we can’t trust Jessica Logan.” Agent Christopher observed. 

 

“We don’t that for sure.” Wyatt said defensively.  “This could all be some big misunderstanding.”

 

“Oh, come on!” Flynn spat out in exasperation.  “It’s clear she was trying to manipulate you…and she’s doing a damn good job of it too.”

 

Wyatt, already fed up with Flynn and his antics, lunged from the counter angrily and shoved Flynn roughly in the chest, “Shut the hell up, Flynn” he gritted out as Flynn shoved him right back.  Hardly diffusing the situation, that shove only served to be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.  All of the frustration of having Garcia Flynn in the bunker came spilling out in one devastating blow to Flynn’s jaw. 

 

“Wyatt!” Lucy yelled out as Flynn his own blow towards Wyatt’s face.  “Flynn!  Stop it!” she cried as the two men grappled with one another, the rest of the bunker stood by helplessly, until Agent Christopher barked out “Stand down….BOTH OF YOU!”

 

Pushing away from Flynn angrily, Wyatt stormed off down the hall towards his bedroom, muttering to him before he left, “Keep the hell away from me.”

 

“Obviously hit a nerve.” Flynn mumbled as he wiped the blood from his split lip. 

 

Lucy rounded on him angrily, “And what would you have done?” Lucy snapped.  “If Rittenhouse had brought your family back from the dead?  Would you be so grateful they were back in your arms and in your life or would suspect them…would you be looking for the hidden catch?” Flynn bowed his head in apparent shame as she continued her remonstrance, “There’s nothing wrong with Wyatt trying to believe the best about Jessica.  You of all people should understand that.”

 

“I don’t give a damn about Wyatt.” Flynn spat out angrily.  “But his short-sightedness is going to get us all killed.  Rittenhouse is playing on his weakness.”

 

“Well then it’s a good thing you’re here, isn’t it?” Lucy said angrily.  “You have no weakness for them to exploit, right?  You’re so much better than Wyatt, is that it?”

 

“I didn’t say that.” Flynn said quietly. 

 

 “Well, I need to make a few phone calls.” Agent Christopher announced as she gathered up Wyatt’s divorce papers.  “This latest development is definitely going to need some attention.  I’m going to put a detail on Jessica Logan, see if we can’t find some proof that she actually is working for Rittenhouse.  Until then, we assume she is…” Agent Christopher nodded at Lucy, “tell Wyatt if she tries to communicate with him any further not to respond, send it directly to me.  Understood?” Lucy nodded in solemn agreement as the Homeland Security Agent made her way to the door. “I’ll be back shortly…I’m going to try to sort out this mess.”

 

Casting an annoyed look towards Flynn, Lucy made her way back to Wyatt’s bedroom where he was sitting on the edge of his cot, head in his hands.  “You okay?” she asked softly as she leaned against the doorframe. 

 

“I just don’t understand…why would she lie about something like that?  I mean, she knows how I feel about my dad…”

 

“Wyatt,” Lucy pleaded sympathetically.  “It’s what they do.  Do you think I wanted to believe that my mother was capable of all the terrible things she has done?”  Lucy sighed as she stepped into the room, “It’s Rittenhouse.  It’s how they get what they want…they play on your emotions and your trust…until…” she scoffed, “let’s just be grateful it’s not too late.”

 

“Too late?”

 

“I encouraged you to go to her, Wyatt.”  Lucy said with a sigh, “You could have been completely taken in…and it would have been partly my fault.”

 

“No, Lucy.” Wyatt maintained firmly.  “I would have gone to see Jessica with or without your blessing.  It was something I had to do.”  He gave her a small smile, “Not that it didn’t just about kill me to do it.”   

 

Lucy let out a small laugh as Wyatt stood and wrapped his arms around her.  Laying her head on his shoulder, Lucy sighed, “I’m so sorry, Wyatt.”

 

He tightened his arms around her as he leaned his head next to hers, “I guess if anyone knows what this feels like, you do.” 

 

“Well…” Lucy muttered, “it’s like what you told me in that trunk in Darlington…now you know.”

 

“Now I know what?” Wyatt asked as he pulled away from her. 

 

“That you can move on.” she smiled as she shrugged, “Nothing ahead but the open road, right?”

 

Wyatt brushed Lucy’s cheek with the tips of his fingers, “Right.” he murmured as an impish expression stole across his face, “You know,” he said with a sigh, his eyes darting to her lips, “you make it awfully hard to stick to those ground rules, ma’am.”

 

Lucy grinned as she leaned forward and ghosted her lips over his, “I think I can make an exception” she murmured, “under the circumstances.”

 

Smiling, Wyatt closed the distance between them, capturing her lips with a gentle kiss.  The sound of the alarm, however, had them both pulling away sooner than they both would have liked.  “What are the odds that’s just Flynn leaving the bunker?”

 

Lucy let out a derisive laugh as Rufus came skidding into the doorway, out of breath, “The mothership jumped…March 30, 1981, Washington, DC.”

 

“That’s the day Reagan was shot.” Lucy responded as she made her way out of the bedroom and followed Rufus down the hall.  “Reagan survived,” she explained, “Maybe Rittenhouse wants to change that?”

 

“Where’s Agent Christopher?” Wyatt asked as he slipped into his shoulder holster. 

 

“She left to sort things out with Jessica.” Lucy explained.  “Did anyone try to call her?”

 

“I did.” Mason responded promptly, “no answer.”

 

“I guess we just go then.” Wyatt said with a shrug, before pausing suddenly and nodding at Flynn, “You coming?”

 

Flynn frowned, “AS much as I enjoy our trips together, I think I’ll sit this one out.”

 

“Look,” Wyatt said apologetically, “I’m really sorry about earlier…I shouldn’t have…”

 

Flynn smirked, “It’s alright…for the record, I’m sorry too.” He cast a glance at Lucy before adding, “If I could have just a few minutes left with my wife and child, I would take it…no matter the circumstances.” He sighed heavily, “But…um…it doesn’t change my decision.  I was in first grade in 1981.” he explained.

 

“I may have missed this by a month or two, as well.” admitted Mason. 

 

“I’ll go!” chirped Jiya excitedly.

 

“No.” Rufus said adamantly, “You’ve already had problems with time travel.”

 

“And I’ve been checked out…I’m fine.” Jiya argued. “Besides, I want to see if the upgrades we made actually work.”

 

“Two pilots are going on a mission and we’re going to be trying out the new auto-pilot feature?”  Rufus said incredulously, “Seems kind of unnecessary.”

 

“Or very necessary when it doesn’t work.” Jiya reminded him.  “Relax, Rufus…I’ve got this.  Besides,” she said with a shrug as she made her way up the stairs, “I love the 80s.”

 

                                                *****************************

 

“You know for your first-time stealing clothes, you did a scary good job.” Rufus noted as they ducked out of an alley. 

 

“What can I say?  I never met a security tag I couldn’t deactivate.”  Jiya responded as she fiddled with her purse, prompting Wyatt to investigate. 

 

“Yeah?  What else did you take?” he asked as he nabbed her purse and began nosing through it.  “Leg warmers?  Ray-Bans….”

 

…and some amazing vintage blue eye shadow.” Jiya added as she snatched her purse away from a smirking Wyatt. 

 

“Guys, focus.” Lucy admonished as she pulled her hair out of from under the khaki trench coat Jiya had provided her. 

 

“Nice glasses.” Wyatt said with a smirk, “Are they supposed to act as a deterrent?”

 

“That was the general idea, yes.” Lucy admitted as they made their way to the Washington Hilton. 

 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, ma’am…it’s not working.” Wyatt said as placed his hand at the small of her back and led her across the street. 

 

“Reagan is just finishing a luncheon address.  At 2:27 PM Hinckley will attempt to assassinate him on his way out of the hotel.” Lucy pressed on, ignoring Wyatt’s attempt at flirtation. 

 

“He was some nut job obsessed with Jodie Foster, right?” Rufus asked

 

“John Hinckley was the son of a well-connected Texas family, but yes…a nut job all the same.” Lucy answered with a sigh.  “He was going to stalk Jodie Foster at Yale, until he heard that Reagan was speaking and he thought killing him would impress her.”

 

“Oh sure…that’ll do it.” Rufus quipped. 

 

“Nobody died?” Jiya asked.

 

“Press Secretary James Brady was paralyzed and ultimately died from his injuries in 2014…but today?  No…nobody’s supposed to die today.  I’m guessing Rittenhouse wants to change that.”  Lucy’s eyes scanned the gathering crowd as the time grew ever closer for Reagan’s departure.  “There!” Lucy whispered to Wyatt who was hovering protectively over her, “There’s Hinckley.”

 

“I’m not worried about Hinckley.” Wyatt muttered as he narrowed his eyes towards the would-be assassin.  “There’s a sleeper here…and you’re still a target.” 

 

“Stay behind the line!” came the bellowed orders of the police detail as Reagan made his way out of the hotel.  Wyatt kept his hand protectively on Lucy’s back as he eyed the clamoring crowd like a hawk, looking for anyone besides Hinckley who might pose a threat. 

 

Seeing a sudden movement to his left, Wyatt reacted immediately, “Get down!” he yelled out as he pushed Lucy to the ground but the sleeper, gun drawn, wasn’t deterred.  As if in slow motion, Wyatt followed the shooters aim to a female police officer standing off to the side, trying to maintain crowd control.  Lunging for her, Wyatt knocked her onto the ground as the shooter’s gun went off. 

 

Grunting from the impact of the fall, Wyatt scrambled off of her, noticing with horror that her arm was bloodied, “We need an ambulance over here!” he cried out, before crouching down in front of her and asking in concern, “Ma’am are you alright?”

 

“Just a graze…thanks to you.”

 

“Just doing my duty,” Wyatt eyed her badge and read off the name, “Officer…Christopher.” Wyatt’s eyes widened, “Denise Christopher?”

 

The young police officer’s eyes darted to his in confusion, “Yes…have we met before?”

 

“Um…no…not yet…Wyatt Logan, US Army, Special Forces.” he said awkwardly as he reached out his hand to shake hers. 

 

“Thank you, sir.  I owe you one.” she said with a grimace as the EMTs rushed over to assess her injury. 

 

Wyatt nodded stoically and made his way back over to Lucy, “You okay?” he asked her as she straightened her long red skirt. 

 

“I’m fine.” Lucy nodded in assurance. 

 

“Guys!  Guys!” Rufus called out as he made his way towards them through the bustling crowd.  “Hinckley got away.” he hissed.

 

“Okay…I’m not fine.” Lucy breathed out in a slight panic.  “That’s not supposed to happen, he’s supposed to be caught.”

 

“So…Rittenhouse came here to save Hinckley…is that it?” Rufus asked.  “They hate Jodie Foster or something?”

 

“Not quite.” Wyatt said seriously as he looked towards the ambulance now housing Denise Christopher.  “This isn’t about Hinckley or Reagan.  They’re here to kill Agent Christopher before she becomes Agent Christopher.” he said with a meaningful nod towards the open ambulance. 

 

“That’s her?” Lucy asked as she turned around in astonishment. 

 

“The sleeper is disguised as a Sleeper Service Agent.” Wyatt said tersely.  “He’s going to want to finish the job.”

 

“Finish the job?” Rufus asked, “You mean…?”

 

“Without Agent Christopher, we never would have met.” Lucy said with sudden understanding as she looked up at Wyatt. 

 

Wyatt met her eyes with grim determination as he nodded tersely, “We’ve got to get to that hospital.”      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for being so long updating this. We have had some beautiful Spring days here and so I have been out playing instead of writing. This was a difficult chapter in that I wasn't quite sure where I wanted to end it...I'm trying to set us up for what is coming, so I needed a jumping off point. 
> 
> I really wanted to address the problems with Jessica's return that weren't really addressed in the show...NAMELY that Wyatt was presumed dead in that Mason Industries explosion. If Rufus' family believed he was still dead, then how did Jessica know Wyatt was still alive? Then there was the accusation that she made that he was "drunk five nights a week"...um...not if he was on call 24/7 like they were...wouldn't fly! SO this chapter was focused on tearing apart Jessica's attempt at manipulation. 
> 
> I am still writing the last part of the Torrent epilogue, it has just taken a bit of a back seat to beautiful weather too.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update. I promise I'm trying to get this fic wrapped up ASAP. I SO want to jump into my Stranded AU...I'm so excited to share that one. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always.


	15. Everyone is the Hero of their Own Story.

It was chaos in the trauma center of the George Washington University Hospital in Washington, DC.  The President, as Lucy explained, had cracked a rib when he was being pushed into the limousine and had been coughing up blood.  His presence added not only a heightened frenzy to the place, but also tightened security.  The halls were filled not only with doctors and nurses, but with secret service agents and the occasional member of the press, attempting to sneak access to the wounded President.

 

“I don’t understand.” Rufus whispered as they made their way towards the trauma unit.  “If Rittenhouse wanted to take out Agent Christopher, why didn’t they do it the other day when they had the chance?”  He looked at Lucy, “Didn’t she get that black eye from your mother?”

 

“Because it’s much bigger than that.” Lucy explained in a huff.  “If Rittenhouse is successful here, she could effectively disappear and the reality we had been inhabiting could disappear right along with it.”

 

“She’s that important?” Jiya asked. 

 

“Well… _everybody’s_ important, but she created this team.” Lucy muttered quietly.  “She recruited Wyatt…without her…there’s be no us…any of us.”

 

“Oh come on now…” Rufus attempted to argue, “Jiya and I were at Mason…and I’m sure you guys would have…”

 

“When she found out all of her superiors were working for Rittenhouse she took us all off the grid.” Wyatt reminded him.  “That’s not something just anybody would do.  Do you know what kind of risk she took?  Hell, she put 200 of them behind bars, some of them her superiors.”  Wyatt scoffed, “If it weren’t for her, Rittenhouse would have had the Lifeboat a long time ago.”

 

“Right.” Lucy nodded as she swallowed hard, “So we need to make sure nothing changes for her.  We need her to do the things she’s supposed to do, so that come 2016, she’s at Homeland Security arranging a team to go after Garcia Flynn.”

 

“You know, you say that and there are days I would trade anything to be back chasing his ass all over history instead of dealing with these sleepers.” Rufus quipped.  “Course that would mean, he wouldn’t be in the bunker living with us anymore…can’t say that I’d miss him that much, but the man does have good taste in skin moisturizer.” 

 

Jiya rolled her eyes at Rufus, as Lucy leaned towards Wyatt and whispered urgently, “Any sign of him?” 

 

“He has got to be here somewhere” Wyatt sighed as he took in the bustling unit.  “If this is where they took Reagan, he can’t be very far away.”

 

“There are a lot of Secret Service here…would you recognize him if you saw him?” Lucy asked as she bit her lip nervously.

 

“Yeah.” Wyatt muttered, “Coat and tie, mustache…Magnum PI ‘stache.”

 

“Well that narrows it down a bit.” Rufus quipped sarcastically.  “It’s like finding a moustache in a haystack around here.”  

 

“And we still have to find Hinckley.” Lucy reminded them, “He can’t get away with this…who knows what could happen.”

 

Wyatt, whose eyes hadn’t once drifted from the task of scanning the room in search of Agent Christopher’s would be assassin, suddenly tensed, “That’s him.”  He turned to Lucy, “You find Agent Christopher…stay with her…make sure she gets patched up and then work with her on finding Hinckley.  Rufus and I will go after this dick.”

 

“Okay.” Lucy nodded, before reaching out and grabbing Wyatt by the hand.  “Just…be careful, alright?” she whispered urgently.

 

“You too.” Wyatt offered as he squeezed her hand in assurance before setting off with Rufus towards the elevators. 

 

Lucy watched them go with more than a little trepidation, taking comfort only in the fact that if they were unsuccessful, at least their memories would remain intact, no matter what changes they would face upon their return to the present.  It was little comfort, however.  Without Agent Christopher, would they even have a home to come back to?  Would they return to a present where history as they knew it was unrecognizable due to Rittenhouse interference?    

 

“You okay?” Jiya asked as she nudged Lucy in the arm. 

 

Lucy shook her head despondently, “Maybe… _maybe I can’t_ escape Rittenhouse.” She let out a shaky breath, “They’re going to keep doing things like this until...until…”

 

“Hey,” Jiya consoled, “We’ve got this…Wyatt and Rufus are going to find that sleeper, and we’ll make sure nothing happens to Agent Christopher…it’s going to be fine.

 

“But what about next time?”  Lucy muttered mechanically.  “I…I just…”

 

Understanding Lucy’s concern, Jiya nodded thoughtfully, "I know...I worry too...but look on the bright side..."

 

"There's a bright side?" Lucy asked doubtfully.

 

"At least they can’t do anything to Mason,” Jiya answered with a grin, “without him, they wouldn't have a time machine.”  She tugged on Lucy’s arm, “Come on, let’s go find Agent Christopher.”

 

The two friends and teammates made their way down to the emergency room where a young Denise Christopher was being treated for a minor gunshot wound to her arm.  Since beginning this foray into time travel, Lucy had experienced her share of strange and unusual moments.  Meeting her grandfather, Ethan Cahill, for example, had been one such experience; to become acquainted with a man she had never before seen while in his youth and then meet him again, hours later after he had aged 63 years?  That was more than a little surreal.  Now, however, as she pushed open the door to Officer Christopher’s examination room, she felt that same twisted sense of déjà vu as her eyes beheld the fresh, young, and untested face of the Homeland Security agent who would one day be like a mother to her. 

 

“Can I help you?” Agent Christopher asked with a wary look towards Lucy and Jiya. 

 

Too astonished to even speak, Lucy stood gaping at her youthful mentor, until Jiya stepped forward, “I’m Cagney, this is Lacey…we’re um…private investigators.”

 

“I’m Denise.”

 

“I kn…I mean, it’s very nice to meet you.” Lucy corrected herself nervously.

 

Denise Christopher narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously, “Who did you say you work for again?”

 

 _You_.

 

Lucy bit her lip to keep that answer from escaping and making an already awkward situation, more so.  “We’re um…not at liberty to say.” she stammered out as she cast a nervous glance towards Jiya. 

 

Lucy had never been smooth with her lies…even in 1937 when Admiral Rosendahl had asked for their credentials, she had spouted off the first pop culture references that popped into her head, thanking her lucky stars that General Hospital wouldn’t air for another twenty-six years.  Then, Admiral Rosendahl had been thoroughly distracted by her mention of the Spanish Flu to ask any further questions; his concern for the health of his men and the awaiting crowd far outweighing any suspicion he might have otherwise had.  Now, however, Lucy felt at a complete loss.  Knowing Agent Christopher as she did, made lying to her, even years before she met her, a seemingly impossible task.  Already she was surveying Lucy and Jiya with a searching gaze that Lucy had seen many time; a gaze that communicated clearly to Lucy that she knew they weren't being entirely truthful. 

 

Desperate to distract from her nervous agitation which she felt would inevitably raise only more suspicion, Lucy stammered and fidgeted nervously, but no such distraction was forthcoming.  She was just about to give in and admit everything when Jiya quickly got to the matter at hand, “We’re here about the man who shot the President.  We need your help.”

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Lucy offered Jiya a thankful nod.  

 

Agent Christoper...or rather, Officer Christopher looked back at them incredulously, "That's more of a job for the hotline or the Secret Service...not me."

 

"They won't believe us." Jiya pressed.  

 

"Why not?" 

 

Lucy exhanged a look with Jiya before taking a steadying breath and confessing quickly, "We believe that a disturbed young man named John Hinckley shot the President. He's obsessed with Jodie Foster, so he imitated the plot in the movie  _Taxi Driver_ to impress her."

 

Agent Christopher stared at them blankly, "You're right..." she said incredulously, "they won't believe you."

 

"We can prove it." Lucy said with a desperate nod, "All we need you to do is trust us...and you will have the opportunity to catch the man who shot the President.  I know you can't walk away from that."

 

Denise Christopher sighed as she looked at the two women before her, "What do you need me to do?"

 

                                                *****************************

 

The steady drip of water echoed in the mildewed basement of a parking garage right off the Foggy Bottom Metro stop.  Since Rittenhouse had played their hand and stole the Mothership right out from under Homeland Security’s nose, Wyatt had been itching to get some real information out of them.  The raid, while offering them some intelligence, did very little in the way of giving them any kind of indication of who these sleepers were, how many they had placed, and why any one of them would agree to live out an unknown number of years in the past.  With Jessica’s return and the mounting suspicion surrounding her own affiliation with Rittenhouse, Wyatt was more than a little anxious to get some answers. 

 

Half dragging the sleeper agent to a secluded corner, Wyatt roughly threw him into a chair and began binding his hands and feet, “Pl…please…I’ll tell you everything.” he stammered fearfully. 

 

“I have no doubts about that.” Wyatt gritted out.  “You’re gonna sing like a canary.”  After tightening the bonds on the sleeper’s wrists, Wyatt stood up, shook off his coat, rolled up his sleeved and loomed over him dangerously.  “How long have you been here?”

 

“Si…since Emma dropped me off…12 years ago.” came his ready answer. 

 

“Must have been lonely,” Rufus observed casually as he leaned against a pillar.  “Just you and that mustache.”

 

Ignoring Rufus’ jab, Wyatt continued to press for information, “When were you activated?”

 

The man looked fearfully between Wyatt and Rufus, unsure of whether or not they would believe his answer, “Th…this morning.”

 

“So, you’re telling me that you came here 12 years ago and they didn’t give you any inkling about what you were coming here for?” The sleeper swallowed hard and shook his head, “Okay, so you’re a naïve jackass who doesn’t ask questions…just blindly follows…is that it?”

 

“You don’t understand…” he stammered out,  “I only know my mission…that’s how it works….they don’t tell us anything…only what we need to know.”

 

“Is that a fact?” Wyatt asked with a scoff, “And why would you give up your smartphone, your Tinder account, for all of this?”

 

“I didn’t have a choice.” he cried.  “My father…he was caught embezzling money.  My family lost everything.   My dad killed himself…but Rittenhouse…they bailed us out…my mother, me and my brother Zac.  Zac bought into all of the ideology, but…I had my doubts.”  Heaving a heavy sigh, the sleeper continued, “Carol Preston promised we would be well taken care of…she just wanted something in return.”

 

“Time travel.” Rufus answered for him.

 

“Yeah.” he confirmed with a derisive laugh, “It sounded like an incredible adventure.”

 

“Going through time killing people is an incredible adventure?” Wyatt snapped. 

 

“No!  I didn’t know about that until this morning…I swear.”

 

“So, is that how this normally works,” Wyatt asked, “they get some desperate bastard and send them back in time, show up one day and hand you a gun…is that it?”  The sleeper didn’t answer, only bowed his head in distress.  “Who else is Rittenhouse targeting?” Wyatt pressed,   “The other time periods?  What’s the plan” Wyatt demanded. 

 

“I told you…I don’t know.” the man spat out in agitation, “I only know about my mission.”

 

Landing a blow on his face, Wyatt leaned down ominously, gripping at the sleeper’s shirt, “So let me get this straight, you’re a nobody…a grunt…somebody Rittenhouse picked up along the way because you were desperate for money, power, attention…how many more like you are there?”  Wyatt asked. 

 

“I don…don’t know.” the sleeper stammered, “I just know what Rittenhouse promised me.  They promise a lot of things…to a lot of different people.”

 

Why did the bring my wife back?” Wyatt gritted out angrily.  “Huh?  Why would they do that?”  He knew before he even finished asking those questions, he would get nothing in return, but if what Agent Christopher had said about Jessica’s brother was true, then that had to have been the key in getting her to join the organization.  Had her parents turned her over to them?  And if they had…how they hell did they meet?  Was she always Rittenhouse?  Holy shit…was he her mark?

 

The whole idea of it made him sick.

 

“I don’t know anything about that” the man begged, “Please…I have a wife and kid in 2018…if I don’t do everything Rittenhouse says, they’ll kill them.  Do...do whatever you want with me.  I just want them to be safe.”

 

Wyatt scoffed, “You have a wife and kid in 2018?  How the hell is that possible if you’ve been here for 12 damn years?”  Wyatt studied his face closely, “You don’t have a family there…do you?  It’s all just nothing but a damn lie.”

 

The sleeper’s face twitched, but otherwise his expression remained stony. 

 

Motioning Wyatt over to the corner with a nod of his head, Rufus waited until Wyatt slowly approached and whispered, “What the hell are we going to do with this guy?  Kill him?”

 

Wyatt shrugged, “Well, we can’t leave him here, can we?”

 

“What if we bring him with us?” Rufus suggested.  “Like a POW?  I mean, we’ve never caught a sleeper before…we can take two trips.”

 

“No.  Just kill me…I’d be better off dead” came the voice of the sleeper from behind them.  Wyatt shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t think it was such a bad idea.   

 

Rufus, however, objected.  “No.” he maintained.  “We are not like Rittenhouse.  We don’t just kill people.”

 

“I’m not leaving anybody behind so we can take this asshole back to the present.” Wyatt argued. 

 

“Then just leave me in ’81.”  the sleeper suggested haughtily. 

 

“Right.” Wyatt spat out angrily as he grabbed the man’s throat, “So you can just take out Christopher after we leave?”  The sleeper shook his head adamantly swearing that he wouldn’t, but Wyatt scoffed, “Why the hell should we trust you?”

 

“I’ll tell you about my brother.” he wheezed out.  “Please.  He came here to activate me.  I stole Christopher’s file from the hospital with her address in it.  He’s probably on his way over there right now.”

 

That revelation took Wyatt from mildly annoyed to furious.  “You couldn’t tell us that before?” Wyatt gritted out as he slammed the sleeper against the wall.  It wasn’t just Agent Christopher he was worried about, if Lucy was still with her, she was a target too.

 

“I’m telling you now.” the sleeper spat back in annoyance, “If you let me go…I’ll give you the address.”

 

Wyatt stared back at him dangerously, “No…you’re going to give us that address now…and when we get back, we’ll decide what to do with you.  Start talking, asshole.”

 

                                                            *******************

 

Lucy was desperate.  They may have saved Agent Christopher from an assassin’s bullet, they may have helped her nab John Hinckley, Jr, but if they didn’t track her down and convince her to call of the arranged marriage she was being pressured into, they would be going back to a present they would not recognize. 

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jiya whispered harshly as they approached Agent Christopher’s front door.  “I mean, there’s the whole knowing too much about your own future thing…what if this backfires?”

 

“It can’t be any worse than her going down a path she’s not supposed to go down.” Lucy said as she squared off her shoulders and tossed back her head resolutely.  She knew that she was putting on a brave front.  She had no idea what kind of repercussions this could cause, whether it would serve to make this better or worse, but she couldn’t think about that right now.  Right now, all she could think about was what kind of reality would await them in 2018 if they didn’t do something to stop the wrecking ball Rittenhouse had put into motion.  So, heaving out a sigh, she rang the doorbell of her Denise Christopher’s home, silently praying that she would listen to what they had to say.

 

Though Denise did eventually listen to what they had to say, Lucy could see the confusion and fear in her eyes as she explained that she and Jiya were not the women they presented themselves to be…but when she mentioned time travel, the woman who would be Agent Christopher had had enough.  “I think you need to leave.” she muttered dismissively, making her way to the door. 

 

“We can prove it!” Lucy explained desperately as Jiya presented her laptop. 

 

“What is that?” Denise asked fearfully.

 

“It’s a computer…I know you’ve never seen one like this before…that’s because it’s from 2018.” Lucy explained.  “And if can just trust us for just a little while longer, I’ll show you why you can’t go through with this marriage.”

 

Whether it was out of curiosity or fear…perhaps a little of both, Denise relented and allowed Lucy to present her case.  Pictures of children she would have, a marriage she never believed she could have and stories of her decorated career as a police officer, FBI Agent, and later Homeland Security, filled her eyes with tears of wonder. 

 

“Every day we make decisions,” Lucy argued passionately, “get married, don’t get married. Take this job, or that job, go left, or go right…and at the time, they seem like they don’t matter…but they do…especially in your case.”

 

“Why my case?” Denise Christopher asked in bewilderment. 

 

“Because,” Lucy said, overcome with emotion, “you save so many lives.  Including ours…and if you don’t become the person you are meant to become...I..I don’t know what will happen,” Lucy said honestly as tears streamed down her face, “but our reality will change…and not for the better.”       

 

With shaking hands, Lucy pressed the thumb drive Agent Christopher had entrusted to her into her younger counterpart’s hands.  “Take this.  You won’t be able to use it for another 20 years, but it will help you remember why you are doing this,” she smiled to herself, remembering Wyatt’s own words to her, “what you are fighting for.”

 

Embracing her, Lucy and Jiya left her in peace hoping that they had done enough to set her course back on the path to be their mentor, friend and confidant.  Together, they both stepped out onto the porch of her home, anxious to see whether or not they had made any such difference, when a revving engine, a squeal of tires and a sickening thud had them racing out into the yard and looking with horror towards the middle of the street.  A man had been hit by and was obviously dead…they had just turned to call for help when Wyatt stepped out from behind the wheel, a note of anxiousness in his voice, “You ladies call for an Uber?”

 

Confused, but beyond relieved to see him, Lucy and Jiya raced towards the car, understanding from Rufus as they piled into the backseat that Wyatt had “just saved all of their asses by turning the sleeper’s brother into roadkill.”

 

“Nice, Rufus.” Jiya said with a roll of her eyes.  “How’d you guys make out with the other guy?”

 

“He’s dead too.” Wyatt stated solemnly as he sped away from the scene.  “Killed himself right after he gave us the address…must have had a cyanide tablet or something.”

 

The trip back to the present was fairly subdued.  Unsure of what awaited them, unsure if their efforts had made any difference, the team was rightfully nervous as the door to the Lifeboat rolled open.  Seeing a beaming Agent Christopher waiting at the foot of the stairs, however, was enough to chase away any lingering fears or doubts.  “I have been waiting 37 years to thank you all.” she said proudly as she hugged each and every one of them.  “You saved my life…and my family.  I can’t thank you enough.” she said in a voice fraught with emotion.

 

“I’m so sorry to put that kind of pressure on you.” Lucy said as she wrapped her arms around her mentor and friend. 

 

“Don’t be sorry, Lucy.” she muttered gently, “It gave me hope.”

 

Hardly needing a full briefing since she had been present for all that had transpired, even if it had been 37 years before, Agent Christopher, instead, asked Wyatt to elaborate on what he had learned from the Rittenhouse sleeper.

 

With an apologetic look towards Lucy, Wyatt explained as gently as he could manage how Rittenhouse seemed to prey on the desperate to do their dirty work.  “The sleeper, ma’am, had been there for 12 years.  His family had been financially ruined, his father had taken his life, but Rittenhouse had offered him a way out.”

 

“A way out?” Agent Christopher asked.

 

Wyatt sighed heavily, “Offering him a chance to time travel, live in the past, and then turn him into a killer.  It’s my understanding, ma’am, that these people…these sleepers don’t know the full nature of what they’re being tasked to do until they are activated…and then, Rittenhouse manipulates them to see to it that their task is completed.”

 

Flynn chuckled dryly, “They know…they may not know the full extent of what is being asked of them, but they know enough.”  His voice dripped with utter disdain as he lifted his eyes from the floor to the team huddled around the table.    

 

Everyone turned to Flynn in surprise, he had been so quiet before they hadn’t even realized he was there.  “You have some information on this?” Agent Christopher asked.  “Some intel?”

 

Flynn frowned thoughtfully, “A bit.  They prey on the desperate…the people who have lost all hope.” He scoffed, “They promise them the world…but first, they have to prove themselves.” He cast a wary eye towards Lucy, who flushed and bowed her head, remembering with a pang the time she had had to prove herself, her loyalty, to Rittenhouse.   Flynn nodded solemnly, “It’s making a deal with the devil….and the ones stupid enough to believe that it won’t cost them their soul…” he shook his head as he gritted out determinedly, “They know.”   

 

Wyatt, arms crossed in front of him, scoffed, “Sounds like you know first-hand what they’re talking about…”

 

Flynn jutted out his jaw before admitting softly, “I do.”

 

The reaction to that statement was immediate.  Wyatt’s arms dropped to his side as he moved to position himself, defensively, between Flynn and Lucy, nothing but hatred in his eyes as he rounded on the man he knew they should never have trusted.  The astonishment of the others was evident not only from the surprised expressions on their faces, but also from the chorus of gasps and murmurs that sounded throughout the room.  Wyatt, however, felt vindicated.  “You sonofabitch,” he growled, “you’re one of them, aren’t you?”

 

Agent Christopher, now recovered from the initial shock, threw herself between them, stopping Wyatt’s advance as she threw her hands up in the air.  “Let’s hear what he has to say for himself before we jump to any conclusions, shall we?”

 

Wyatt reluctantly stepped back, seething with anger.  “I told you we shouldn’t have brought him in here,” he gritted out as he crossed his arms once more and fixed Flynn with a penetrating glare. 

 

“Do you honestly think I’d ever agree to work with those…those bastards?” Flynn growled at Wyatt angrily.  “They murdered my family!”

 

“Which makes you pretty damn desperate.” Wyatt spat back, “You just admitted you know first-hand what their methods are, so either you’re a sleeper or you’re lying…so which is it?”

 

Flynn hung his head, shaking it in frustration, “When you had me arrested,” he said with a derisive laugh to Agent Christopher, “I was angry.  I wanted revenge.”  He pointed to Lucy, “She promised that I would get my family back if I helped her…I held up my end of the bargain.  I gave you Rittenhouse on a silver platter.” he hissed.

 

“Actually, that was Ethan Cahill.” Rufus piped up, but as Flynn turned a menacing eye on him, he shifted awkwardly and muttered, “but ya know…whatever…just…details.”

 

“The point is…I helped you, I trusted you…and I got thrown into prison.” he observed.

 

“You were thrown into prison to answer for your crimes.” Agent Christopher admonished stoically, “you stole a time machine, you murdered countless people, you cost the Government a lot of money.”

 

“I saved all of you!  I saved history!”  Flynn spat out angrily.  “If Rittenhouse would have had that time machine, do you have any idea what they could have done?”  He looked at Lucy meaningfully, “I do.  That’s why I was given the journal…to stop it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, “Wyatt said off-handedly, “we know all about Lucy giving you that damn journal.  It still doesn’t change the fact you as good as admitted you were recruited by Rittenhouse.”

 

“They approached me.  Came to visit me in prison.” Flynn admitted with a nod.  “I told them to go to hell.” he whispered in a voice dripping with disdain.  “They promised me my freedom…a chance to save my family…” He scoffed, “Even though I knew they couldn’t be trusted…a part of me, wanted nothing more than to take that offer…just so I could see my girls again.”

 

“Why didn’t you?” Lucy asked in a small voice. 

 

Flynn’s eyes rested on Lucy for a long while before he answered quietly, “I had another visitor.” he said with a solemn nod to Agent Christopher.  Flynn frowned, “I decided since I was so valuable to both parties, I’d listen to what both of you had to say…what both of you had to offer.”

 

“So that address in Darlington?” Lucy asked timidly.

 

“I got that from Rittenhouse.” Flynn nodded, apparent shame clouding his features as he further added, “from your mother.”

 

Lucy’s eyes darted up to meet his, a look of horror on her face,  “My mother came to see you?”

 

Flynn gave her a wry smile, “Oh yes.  She wanted me to give you a few good leads, win your trust...”

 

“So you could double cross us all?  Get revenge on Lucy?  Is that it?”  Wyatt spat out angrily.

 

“That was the general idea.” Flynn admitted with a scowl, “But I didn’t go through with it.”

 

“The hell you didn’t.” Wyatt argued.  “You did exactly what they asked you.  The address in Darlington, the studio in Hollywood…hell, that sleeper almost took off with Lucy right in the middle of that party…and you knew it would happen, didn’t you, you sonofabitch?” 

 

“I knew Carol Preston was interested in getting Lucy back, yes…but I was interested in gaining your trust for my own reasons.”

 

Wyatt turned to Agent Christopher, looking absolutely vindicated, “You see?  I told you…he would make a deal with the devil if it would benefit him in anyway.”

 

“I didn’t make a deal with Rittenhouse!  I wanted the hell out of there!” Flynn spat out.  “you asked me for information, I gave it you.”  He pointed roughly to Agent Christopher “Ask her what happened to me…I got stabbed with a damn spoon!”  Flynn passed a rough hand over his face, “They knew I was talking to Lucy…so they tried to kill me…I came here for protection…not for some Rittenhouse plot!”

 

“And why the hell should we believe you?” Wyatt asked roughly. 

 

“I don’t expect you to believe me.” Flynn spat out, “But I think I’ve more than proved myself…why would I join forces with the people who put my family in their graves?  They murdered my wife….my child.”  Flynn argued in a voice of emotion, “I‘m not here on any errand for them.”

 

“Why are you here?” Lucy asked quietly. 

 

It was a valid question.  As Wyatt had argued, he had provided no real intelligence since arriving in the bunker, yet he had made it seem that he was an indispensable source of intelligence for them.  Lucy knew that Agent Christopher could have placed him into protective custody, given him a new identity…but yet, here he remained.       

 

Flynn gazed at Lucy thoughtfully, his head nodding slightly as if making some sort of internal decision.  Offering her a slight smirk and casting an admonishing gaze to Wyatt, Flynn jutted out his jaw and admitted softly, “To be a hero.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very challenging...and it actually was going to be much longer, but I really didn't want to proof another long one after that last Torrent update. 
> 
> My big complaint with 208 was there was not much forward momentum in the way of overarching storyline. We learn that Wyatt saved AC and that RH uses desperate people to forward their goals. At the tail end of that episode we get Flynn's account of the journal handoff..and then the reason I hate this episode so much....the pregnancy bombshell. While I absolutely love that we were able to learn more about Agent Christopher and her past, I felt like everything else just sort of stagnated....and it FRUSTRATES me to no end that we didn't get more forward momentum on other parts of the storyline here when the next episode was the two part finale.
> 
> For the purposes of my fic, I kept the Reagan episode pretty much the same, and THAT is what made this chapter challenging...I didn't want to just copy the episode word for word...that's no fun...and so I tried my best to summarize the parts that were important for the over arching story and get us back so that we could learn more about Flynn and his role in all of this...again...this WAS longer...you'll get a bit more of that in the next chapter...as well as more Lyatt....i just couldn't fit it all in here without it being crazy long. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!!


	16. Intervention

Agent Christopher put off her trip back home so that she could talk with Flynn further about Rittenhouse and the propositions they had made to him.  Hesitant to speak in front of the rest of the group…whether for Lucy’s sake or for the sake of his own privacy, no one really knew for sure…Flynn requested that he and Agent Christopher speak someplace privately.  Opting for one of the storage rooms, Agent Christopher led Flynn away, leaving the rest of the group to sit and marvel at what had just been revealed. 

 

Wyatt watched them go, still distrustful of the man who had attempted to kill them so many times.  Rufus was soon at Wyatt’s elbow, “Everyone’s the hero of their own story, right?” he observed with a whisper. 

 

Wyatt narrowed his eyes in thought, “If Rittenhouse really did try to recruit him, why didn’t Flynn admit as much before?” he asked, “Why not just tell us?”   

 

“Come on Wyatt,” Rufus explained, “you know as well as I do, he would have never been allowed in this bunker if he had told us something like that.  Hell, we didn’t want him in this bunker, to begin with.”  Rufus shook his head, “He knew we wouldn’t trust him as far as we could throw him if we knew that Rittenhouse was chatting him up.”

 

Wyatt begrudgingly nodded in agreement.  He had suspected as much from Flynn from the start.  As he had told Lucy, desperate people do desperate things…and they all of them knew what Garcia Flynn was capable of.  His desperation had turned him from humanitarian to mass-murderer; an international time traveling terrorist…and Rittenhouse, unsurprisingly saw the value of having someone like that on their side.

 

But maybe Flynn really did have his limits.

 

It’s not like Wyatt didn’t understand Flynn’s rage.  He did.  Hell, he probably understood it better than anyone else in that bunker.  To have someone you love brutally murdered?  To live with the knowledge that their killer was never brought to justice?

 

Of course, he had Jessica back now…her murder had never taken place in this timeline…but Rittenhouse had apparently taken her under their wing and turned her from small town bartender to…whatever the hell she was now.  Agent?  Spy?  Innocent victim?  Hell if he knew anymore.  Still, it didn’t erase that fact that for six years he had been angry, he had wanted justice, he had wanted revenge…but he didn’t let it change who he essentially was.    

 

Not like Flynn.

 

Flynn had spent the better part of a year killing innocent people in his attempt to rid the world of this organization that had caused all of them so much grief over the past two years. Framed for the murders of his wife and child, Flynn had gone on the run.  Unlike Wyatt who had his military service to distract him, Flynn was a man driven to desperation.  Desperation not only to find justice for his wife and child, but desperation to clear his own name.  He might have stayed on the run forever if it hadn’t been for Lucy…

 

Wyatt turned back to look at her, sitting stoically at the table, wondering suddenly what had driven her to give him her journal.  What finally caused her to write it?  She had been through so much for almost two years, had lost her sister, her father…and her mother, really…but even after losing so much, she was still Lucy - kind, caring, forgiving, selfless, Lucy…so what made her turn Flynn loose on history and the world? 

 

Wyatt swallowed hard considering that maybe…just maybe…they hadn’t seen the worst of what Rittenhouse could do.  It was hard to believe they could inflict much more pain on them, but almost as soon as that thought entered his mind, he checked himself…he knew full well things could always get worse.  One look at Lucy and he remembered with a stab of panic that she was a target…Rittenhouse wanted to kill her…and he knew that if that happened it would completely destroy him. 

 

Which brought him back to Flynn.  When it came down to it, he was a just grieving father and husband who had been handed the means to bring their killers to justice…and well, Wyatt couldn’t fault him for that.  They both dealt with their grief in different ways; Flynn with his vigilante justice, Wyatt with his pursuit of duty and service.  They had both been desperate…hell, hadn’t they both stolen time machines to try to save the people they had loved and lost?    

 

Shit. 

 

Wyatt sighed heavily considering that perhaps he and Flynn weren’t quite so different after all.  He never believed that he would ever torch through history like a mad man as Flynn did, but now, knowing the lengths Rittenhouse would go to manipulate, coerce and reshape the past to suit their twisted agenda, he wasn’t so sure.  Looking at Lucy, he was less certain.  Knowing that she was a target, knowing that she could very well be killed, murdered, assassinated for her non-compliance, Wyatt reflected on what he would do if that happened…if he had failed to protect her.   

 

There was no question in his mind, as he watched her tuck her hair behind her ear and take a sip of her tea; he would move heaven and Earth to make them pay…and he wouldn’t even think twice.

 

So what the hell did that make him?  What did it make Flynn?    

 

Sighing heavily, Wyatt eased his way over to Lucy, leaning back against the counter as he observed her quietly.  “You okay?” he muttered after a long while. 

 

Lucy gave an imperceptible nod of her head as she swallowed back the tears were now fighting their way to the surface.  She had been sitting at the table wondering how her mother could be involved…no not involved…leading such an organization as Rittenhouse.  The woman she thought she knew kept becoming more and more foreign to her as these missions wore on.    She knew, of course, that Rittenhouse was horrible before this…but taking advantage of people in desperate circumstances?  Feeding on their fears, their insecurities, their…hopeless circumstances…

 

Lucy leaned forward with moan as she realized that they had done the same thing to her…and to Wyatt.  They may not have recruited them to do their bidding, but they played on their emotions just the same.

 

“Who recruited the sleeper?” she asked quietly.

 

“What?” Wyatt asked, confused and a little alarmed by her question. 

 

“The sleeper, in 1981,” she swallowed hard before she continued, “you said that Rittenhouse had offered him a way out…did he say who?”  She sought out Wyatt’s eyes, but he either would not or could not look at her.  That was all the verification she needed.  He didn’t need to vocalize it; she knew by the sorrowful expression he wore he was trying to protect her from any further pain.

 

Lucy nodded her head in silent understanding, “My mother.” She sighed heavily, “I’d like to say I’m surprised…but I’m not anymore.”   Letting out a derisive laugh she continued, “You know, my mother…she used to tell me that history wasn’t about the dates.” Lucy threw her head back haughtily and imitated her mother, ‘History,’ she always said, ‘is an epic saga that we are still writing.’” Lucy scoffed, “I thought she was so clever…I never would have dreamed that she actually meant _rewriting_.”

 

A flash of anger appeared in Lucy’s eyes, a darkness that Wyatt had begun seeing once they got back from 1918.  It was subdued, barely there…but the fact that it _was_ there at all was enough to make his blood boil.  She was too good to deserve any of this…and yet she bore it all with a grace that left Wyatt nearly speechless. 

 

“I used to think that history was set in stone,” she murmured quietly, “unchangeable, immoveable…each event leading to the next…something that could never be erased.  But then Amy disappeared…and now with Jessica…and with this…this mission to stop Agent Christopher…” she gasped as silent tears streamed down her face, “I see just how fragile it all is.”  She looked at Wyatt desperately, “They’re never going to stop, are they?  They’re going to keep rewriting history until…”

 

Wyatt lunged forward and took the seat next to her, wrapping her up in a one-armed embrace as she leaned sideways onto his shoulder.  “We’ll find a way to stop them, Lucy.” He murmured into her hair as Rufus and Jiya nodded their support.  “We’re not let going to let them win.” 

 

“When we started this, you told me to figure out what I was fighting for…and that was Amy.  I was fighting for Amy.  To get her back” Lucy shook her head despondently, “But that’s never going to happen, is it?”

 

There was no quaver or sadness in her voice.  Lucy asked the question as if she already knew the answer…had prepared herself a long time ago for seemingly inevitable impossibility of saving her sister.  A deathly silence fell over the room for a few moments, no one quite knowing how to respond or how best assure Lucy that they would somehow find a way.  It was one thing to talk about stopping Rittenhouse, but undoing whatever the hell they had done to ensure her sister’s continued non-existence?  It seemed an impossible puzzle that no one, not even Emma could solve…even though she was the one that had deepened the mystery of Amy’s disappearance.  That grim reality seemed to settle itself over the bunker inhabitant like a dark cloud when Flynn’s quiet voice broke through the somberness of the moment, “Only if you give up hope.” 

 

The eyes of everyone in the bunker were turned on Flynn who had apparently emerged from his meeting with Agent Christopher; no one had seen nor heard him approach.  How long he had been standing there listening to their conversation, no one knew, but the small smile of reassurance he offered Lucy and the gentleness of his voice had everyone, including Lucy, gaping at him in awe.  Nodding solemnly, he stood from his perch on the arm of the couch and excused himself as he retreated to his bedroom. 

 

Gaping after him, Rufus exclaimed, “Did Flynn seem a bit…normal to you?” He looked around the table at the others as he explained, “And I’m not talking Flynn normal…I’m talking you and I normal…regular, everyday people normal.”

 

‘We are not regular, everyday people, Rufus” Jiya laughed as she moved from the table, “We live underground in a secret bunker and travel through time.”

 

“Okay…fine not regular, everyday people…just…people, in general.”

 

Lucy rolled her eyes, “Come on, Rufus.” she said with a slight laugh, “He’s not that bad.” 

 

“You may have a short-term memory where he is concerned,” Rufus argued, “but to me, he’ll always be the jackass who had Al Capone shoot me.”

 

“Well, he _actually_ shot me.” Wyatt muttered, “but you don’t hear me complaining about it every five minutes. 

 

“That was no picnic for me either.” Rufus reminded him, “But you of all people, Wyatt, know what I mean…Flynn is….” he lowered his voice to a hissing a whisper, “a freaking psycho…not the one for sage advice…that’s…that’s _you_.” he said pointing to Lucy. 

 

“Are you saying I’m rubbing off on him?” she asked with a wry smile. 

 

Wyatt shrugged, “Possibly.” He smirked at her, “You’re very persuasive…ma’am.”

 

She smiled at Wyatt as he pressed a kiss to her temple while Rufus slapped both of his hands on the table as he pushed himself up to stand, “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I could use a little distraction.  How about a movie?”

 

Grateful for anything to get her mind off of her mother and Rittenhouse…and thinking that Wyatt would probably like a reprieve from his own depressing revelations about Jessica, Lucy readily agreed…until Rufus attempted to queue up _Weapon of Choice_. 

 

“No, Rufus.” she gritted out firmly, “Anything but that.”

 

“Oh come on, Lucy, lighten up.” Rufus countered, “It will remind us of happier times, when Flynn was our biggest problem.”

 

Lucy turned to Wyatt for support, but rolled her eyes, remembering as he flashed Rufus an impish grin, “Never mind” she muttered, “I forgot, you like this movie.”

 

“That’s not entirely true.” Wyatt said as he tucked Lucy close to him, “I used to hate this movie.”

 

“You?  Hate a James Bond movie?” Lucy scoffed in disbelief, “I don’t believe it.  You were practically skipping when you found out about this…this…thing.” Lucy spat out as she pointed roughly to the television screen.

 

“Oh, believe it, Lucy.” Rufus quipped as he took his place beside Jiya.  “He might have been fanboying over Ian Fleming at first, but dude looked like he was about to beat the shit out of him when he saw him holding your hand in that Nazi castle.”

 

Lucy turned to Wyatt with piqued interest, ‘Oh really?  And how did you know he was holding my hand?  Were you spying on me?”

 

“No.” Wyatt answered truthfully as he roughly threw a pillow at Rufus, “I was keeping an eye on the situation inside…doing _my job_ …which, I might add, saved your asses when Flynn sold you out to the Nazis.” 

 

Lucy nodded thoughtfully, “So you hated this movie because…”

 

“Because James Bond bangs you.” Rufus answered for him as he stuffed his mouth full of popcorn.

 

Wyatt flushed and rolled his eyes as Lucy raised her eyebrows at him, “Well, isn’t that a coincidence? It’s why I hate this movie too.  That, and the fact that he made me out to be some…some….”

 

“Dumb secretary?” Rufus offered. 

 

“The priest holes were my idea!” Lucy argued.  “We would have been killed in there if it hadn’t been for me.”

 

“But you get to be a Bond girl.” Wyatt said with a smirk. 

 

“Please don’t tell me that’s why you like this movie now.” Lucy said in exasperation. 

 

“No.” Wyatt said with shake of his head, “It’s like Rufus said…it’s got all of us in it…and now…well, I figure…let Ian Fleming have his cheap ass imitation Lucy Preston.  I’ve got the real deal…which is much better.”

 

“Kiss up” coughed Rufus before adding glibly, “In other words Lucy, he’s cool with it now because he’s dating an actual Bond girl.”

 

Lucy rolled her eyes as she curled up next to Wyatt on the couch, already feeling much better than she had just minutes before.  Though it made her more than a little uncomfortable to see her big-breasted counterpart tumbling into bed with James Bond, Lucy felt very much the same as Wyatt did in regards to the movie.  She hated the way she had been turned into some sexed up, dumbed down stereotype, but…she noted, Wyatt and Rufus hadn’t come off much better either.  Their roles had been downplayed significantly.  While they both worked together to diffuse the bomb, there was no last-minute rescue in the (now) secret Soviet base in Eastern Germany.  Wyatt and Rufus were mere sidekicks, who bumbled their way through the mission, nearly getting them all killed, while James Bond single handedly fought off a host of soldiers to get them all to safety…via the priest holes. 

 

As much as it annoyed Lucy that Ian Fleming had effectively rewritten history, sitting there with Wyatt and Rufus watching it all play out, she couldn’t help but laugh now at the changes he had made in order to make himself look like the ultimate hero. 

 

_Will you be waiting?_

 

As the credits began to roll with a close up of 007 and her Hollywood counterpart locked in a passionate embrace, Lucy yelled at the television screen tossing a piece of popcorn at Sean Connery’s face. “Definitely NOT!”

 

“You tell him, Lucy.” Rufus nodded as Wyatt chuckled in her hair.    

 

“Can you believe that man?” she said with a shake of her head.  “I mean, honestly...”

“You shot down Ian Fleming, Lucy.  You think he was going to be an honorable man and protect your virtue?” Rufus shook his head as he cleared away the popcorn bowls and made his way into the kitchen, “Think again…”

 

“Yes, well…I don’t know why he had to make me a love interest at all.  It’s not like there was any time for romance anyway…”

 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Wyatt said a bit defensively as she sat up and looked at him in surprise, “It’s just that I thought…well, I mean…we weren’t _together_ or anything but…there was a moment…well, you know…”

 

Lucy couldn’t help but let out a small laugh; seeing Wyatt stammer uncomfortably through an admittance that he had felt a little more for her than he was willing to admit at the time was not only amusing…it was endearing. “You’re right.” she murmured as she pressed a small kiss to his lips, “there was a moment...or two.”

 

“Two, huh?” Wyatt said as he lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

 

“Well, yeah…you got me over the hump,” Lucy explained before adding with a slight shrug, “and you trusted me.  Trusted me over THE Ian Fleming, I might add.”  He offered her a soft smile that made her oh so grateful she was already sitting on the couch.  “I may have started harboring a little bit of a crush on you after that mission.” she admitted with a soft smile of her own.

 

“Careful ma’am” Wyatt said with an impish grin, “you’re getting awfully close to breaking a few of your own ground rules.”

 

“Ground rules?” Rufus asked as he stood over them, glasses in hand, looking at the two of them in confusion.  “What are you talking about…ground rules?”

 

Lucy flushed, wishing that Rufus hadn’t overheard, “It’s just that we have certain…”

 

“Here we go…” Jiya said with a knowing grin as she took the glasses from Rufus’ hand and made her way back to the kitchen. 

  
“I mean,” Lucy said firmly, “that Wyatt is still married…and so…we need to show some…you know, some restraint.”

 

Jiya and Rufus exchanged looks before Rufus nodded his head, “That’s very noble of you, Lucy…but um…”

 

“I told you.” Jiya sighed as she turned from the kitchen and made her way across to the common room sofa, “this is the Wyatt and Lucy _I_ know.”  

 

“Uh-huh.” Rufus said as he looked at Wyatt.  “And you’re fine with this?”

 

Wyatt cast a sideways look towards Lucy and shrugged, “Well…I mean…”  At Lucy’s meaningfully expression, Wyatt quickly switched gears, “Look, it’s fine.  We’re still together…and it’s the right thing to do…by Lucy and by Jessica.”  Looking very uncomfortable, Wyatt pressed a kiss to Lucy’s temple and leapt up from the couch, “I’m gonna go take a shower.”  He cleared his throat as he made his way down the hall, “A cold one.”

 

As Wyatt practically ran from the room to avoid any more awkward conversation, Rufus rounded on Lucy, “You’re making that man take cold showers?”

 

“We live in a bunker, Rufus.” Lucy said with a roll of her eyes, “All of the showers are cold.” 

 

She got up with a huff and made her way to the sink to wash out her mug as Rufus trailed along behind her, “I meant that figuratively…is that right?  Or is it literally? No, figuratively….” Lucy was just about to get annoyed by Rufus’ rambling when he pressed on, “The point is we just got off of a mission where Agent Christopher nearly lost her whole family.  Everything we have could be taken away from us…” Rufus snapped his fingers dramatically. “Just like that.”

 

“I know, Rufus” Lucy hissed out in exasperation, “believe me…I think I understand that better than anyone."  She sighed, “Whatever Jessica is in this timeline…she’s still his wife…and I’m just…”

 

“You’re just the woman he’s head over heels in love with.” Rufus finished for her.   

 

Lucy stared back at him in frustration, “Look, it’s not like this is easy for me either.  I can’t help that Rittenhouse brought Jessica back…”

 

“And neither can Wyatt.” Rufus reminded her.  “In his reality, she’s been dead for six years…he’s moved on.  With you.”

 

Lucy stilled as she dried her mug, but before she could argue with Rufus further, Jiya quickly jumped to her defense, “I think she’s being very respectful and responsible…which is more than what I can say for you, Rufus.” she said pointedly. 

 

“Me?  What did I do?”

 

Jiya shook her head at him as she pulled him away, “C’mon Rufus, leave Lucy and Wyatt alone.  This doesn’t concern you.”

 

As she tugged him away, Lucy reflected on what Rufus had said.  She knew everything…their relationships, their memories, their very lives all hung in the balance as long as Rittenhouse had that time machine…that “paint brush” as Nicholas had called it.  Unchecked, they could pluck  out people and events from the fabric of time…weaving in a new thread, to replace what once was with a new reality handcrafted by them.  She knew all too well how one small change could essentially turn her world upside down.  All it would take was the right event, changed at the right time, to destroy the reality she knew.

 

It _was…_ all so fragile.

 

And what was she doing?  Keeping Wyatt at an arm’s distance, punishing them both because of something Rittenhouse had done to drive them apart.  It wasn’t fair…to either of them.  She was so concerned with trying to do the right thing, she didn’t consider how maybe she was falling into a trap…doing exactly what Rittenhouse…her mother…expected her to do.  Taking the noble, high road, instead of clinging to the only person in her life whom she could fully depend on.  Feeling tremendously silly, Lucy shook her head and made her way down the hall, hoping to talk to Wyatt before he retreated to the confines of his shared room with Rufus. 

 

To her great dismay, however, she did not meet Wyatt in the hall, nor was he in the bathroom.  Knowing there would be no way she could stomach the smugness that was sure to come from that chocodile loving pilot if she knocked on their door, Lucy decided that she would just talk to Wyatt in the morning.  Heaving a sigh, Lucy turned and made her way down the corridor to her own room, until she was met at her door by Rufus himself, “Oh hey, Lucy.” he said with an attempt at nonchalance, “What’s going on?”

 

Lucy tilted her head at him sardonically, “I might ask you the same thing.  What are you doing in my room, Rufus?”

 

“Technically, I’m not in your room…I’m outside of it…also, it’s not just your room.” Rufus said to her pointedly, “Jiya sleeps here too…”

 

“Yes, she does” Lucy said as she attempted to brush past him but Rufus blocked her way, making sure to keep his hand on the door knob so that it could not be opened from the outside…or the inside.

 

“I’m uh...gonna be staying in here tonight” Rufus explained, “with Jiya…because she’s my girlfriend…and not ya know…because of anything else.”

 

Lucy quirked her eyebrow at him before bristling in annoyance, “Does Jiya know about this?”

 

“That she’s my girlfriend?  Or the…the other part?”

 

“You know what I mean, Rufus.” Lucy said as she once more attempted to move past him.  As Rufus shifted himself in front of her, she shook her head at him in disbelief, “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

 

Not even missing a beat, Rufus blocked the door to her bedroom and admitted freely, “Yes, I am.  I think it’s just…no, Jiya,” Rufus called over his shoulder to the muffled sounds of Jiya’s protests, “I’m doing this for her own good,” before turning back to Lucy and saying softly, “look, I know you want to do the right thing…but you and Wyatt are about the rightest thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

Lucy offered him a wry smile, “So, you’re not giving me any choice…”

 

“Nope.” Rufus said glibly as he opened the bedroom door, backed away and slammed it on her face. 

 

“Um…could I at least get a change of clothes?” she called through the door.

 

“Goodnight Lucy!” was the muffled response.

 

Lucy threw back her head in exasperation.  She knew that coming to Wyatt’s room in the dead of night after laying out an entire argument of ground rules and why they were a good idea would require a considerable amount of pride swallowing on her part.  She also knew that Wyatt wouldn’t mind in the slightest, though he might delight in giving her a hard time about all of the admonitions she put him through since the night he had come back to the bunker.  With that in mind, Lucy tentatively lifted her hand and quietly knocked on his door, feeling simultaneously thrilled and nervous at the prospect of being back where she belonged.  She could hear the patter of his feet against the cold floor as he made his way across the room, her heart stupidly pounding nervously in her chest as she waited for him to appear before her. 

 

Cracking the door open, Wyatt peered out into the hall in confusion.  Once his eyes fell on her, however, his confusion gave way to amusement as he offered her a wicked grin, “Can I help you, ma’am?”

 

Lucy flushed slightly as she cast her eyes down to the floor, “Um…Rufus has…” she cleared her throat, deciding to just bite the bullet herself, “I need a place to sleep tonight.” she mumbled quietly.

 

Wyatt narrowed his eyes and quirked his lip, “I’m sorry…what was that?  I couldn’t quite hear…”

 

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Lucy lifted her eyes and admitted clearly, “I need a place to sleep tonight…it seems Rufus decided to conveniently bunk with Jiya.” 

 

Wyatt’s eyes widened in mock offense as he drew his arms across his chest, modestly.  “Lucy,” he said seriously, “that would be a violation of Ground Rule #2…separate bedrooms.”

 

Lucy rolled her eyes in frustration.  She was right…Wyatt was going to make this difficult…well, two could play at that game. “You’re absolutely right.” she agreed with a nod before offering up an exaggerated shrug, “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to bunk with Flynn then.”

 

She turned on her heel to make her way back down the hall when she heard the door creak open behind her.  “Well, let’s not be too hasty…” Wyatt’s voice came from behind her.  Lucy bit back her smile as she turned to face him, a serious expression now planted firmly on her face as he made his way towards her, “there are two beds after all.”

 

Lucy nodded as she made a step towards him, “That’s true.” 

 

He tucked her hair behind her ear and grazed his fingers against her cheek causing the last bit of her self-restraint to flutter away as he smirked at her, “Though I have to admit,” he said softly, “I will have a hell of a time sleeping in the same room with you…”

 

“So, you’re saying this would be a punishment?” Lucy asked as she snaked her arms around his waist.

 

“Torture.” Wyatt admitted as he ghosted a kiss over her lips. 

 

“Well, we can’t have that…” Lucy murmured with a quirked brow, her mouth curling upwards into a wry smile.

 

“No ma’am, we can’t.”

 

Lucy captured Wyatt’s lips with her own in a slow, passionate kiss, her tongue teasing his lower lip as her fingers tickled the nape of his neck in a way that she knew drove him absolutely crazy.  Pushing back from him slightly, she couldn’t help but smile at the look of utter wantonness on his face as he leaned in for another kiss.  Lucy, however, pressed a hand against his chest and sighed, “Alright, Flynn’s room it is.” A teasing smile played across her lips as she quickly turned in his arms and made to step away from him.  A low growl from Wyatt followed by a squeal of laughter from Lucy echoed down the hall as he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her off the ground, and hauled her into the bedroom.  Twirling her around, he pressed her against the wall, kissing her as he fumbled to close the door behind them.  Giggling as his hand repeatedly slipped from off the door frame, Lucy broke the kiss, slid out of his arms and shut it herself, turning back to face him with a flirtatious grin.  “That was a little more than a goodnight kiss, Wyatt.” she accused teasingly.

 

Wyatt lifted his eyebrows at her playfully, “You’re not the only one who can break a few rules, ma’am.”

 

She bit her lip as she stepped towards him tentatively, “Want to break a few more?”  

 

“Lucy Preston,” Wyatt said in a voice of mock astonishment, “are you trying to seduce me?”

 

She shrugged her shoulders as she offered him a sheepish smile, “Maybe…but of course, if you have a problem with it…”  Wyatt lunged for her, crashing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss before Lucy pulled away with a gasp, “I take that as a “no?”

 

“ _Hell_ no.” Wyatt emphasized as he hauled her into his arms again, kissing every part of her he could reach.  Turning, he made his way back to his tiny cot before murmuring against her lips impishly, “We’re gonna have to redecorate again.”

 

“Mmmmhhmmm,” Lucy hummed in agreement as she pulled him into the cot with her, “but not tonight.”

 

*************************

Carol Preston sat at her mahogany desk, the gleam from the richly polished wood reflecting her worried features as she drummed her fingers nervously against its surface.  Her brow was furrowed in concern as she watched her grandfather pacing in agitation on the far side of the room. 

 

“I should have never trusted you.” Nicholas spat out as he shot an angry glare towards Carol, “she’s your daughter…obviously, your judgement in regards to this situation is clouded.”

 

“She’s your great-granddaughter…and the last of a noble bloodline.” she reminded him, “She deserved a chance…a chance to come to her senses.  We _both_ agreed.”

 

“And yet here we are discussing another failed mission.” He rounded on her angrily, “you told me it was fool-proof.  You told me that even if the sleeper failed to kill her, it would cause enough upset to force her away from a life of law enforcement.  That’s what you said.”

 

Carol closed her eyes and breathed deeply, “Given her history, her family’s background…it was a reasonable expectation.” She shrugged in bewilderment, “I must have misjudged the situation.  I take full responsibility for that.”

 

“And Lucy?” Nicholas asked, “or are you still making excuses for her?”

 

“I regret not telling Lucy about Rittenhouse sooner.” Carol admitted quietly, “If I had just had the courage to raise her truthfully…she would have known and accepted her role early on…I’m sure of it.”  She looked at Nicholas, pleading for understanding, “There’s still so much she doesn’t know…about her family, about her father…about what Rittenhouse can offer her.”

 

Nicholas shook his head, “Carol…she is no longer an asset to us.  The longer she lives, the more missions she disrupts, she becomes a more and more of a liability.  We cannot afford any more mistakes where she is concerned.”

 

“Where who is concerned?” came Emma’s drawling voice as she entered the office, Jessica trailing behind.

 

“Ah, Emma, Jessica…” Nicholas said with a grin, “so glad you could join us.”  He offered both Jessica and Emma chairs with a flourish of his hand and nodded to Carol, “We were just discussing what should be done with Lucy.”

 

Emma scoffed, “That makes two of us.  You gonna let me kill her now?”

 

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Carol said with a roll of her eyes.  “Lucy is stubborn, but she’s also my daughter.  Rittenhouse is about family.  Legacy.”  She turned to Nicholas, “Need I remind you that she helped save you in 1918?” Nicholas shook his head at Carol, but she pressed on, “The same blood that flows through your veins, flows through hers.  You might want to consider that before you decide to sign off on her execution.  Besides,” she added with a nod to Jessica, “we’ve already dealt with one of our biggest obstacles to her return.”

 

“Actually…we haven’t” Jessica’s small voice chimed in as she nervously twisted her fingers in her lap.  “He signed the divorce papers.”

 

“He what?” Carol asked in astonishment. 

 

“I tried everything to get him to break.  I played on his guilt with his father, the breakdown of our marriage…begged him to be honest with me,” a flash of anger appeared in her eyes as she muttered, “but he wouldn’t betray them…wouldn’t betray _her_.”

 

“You told me this was our safety net.” Nicholas whispered dangerously.  “That no matter what happened, Jessica would be the wedge that would tear that team apart.”

 

“Did he at least give you a location?  An idea of where they’ve been hiding these past five months?”  Carol asked, ignoring Nicholas’ outburst. 

 

“No ma’am.” Jessica answered with a shake of her head, “it’s not like I didn’t try.  I thought I had him with that state secret bit.”

 

“You’re sure there’s no way to get him to change his mind?” Carol asked.

 

“I could fake a pregnancy” Jessica said with a shrug, “Wyatt’s kind of a sucker for responsibility and duty…but that might be hard to pull off since I told him I believed he was dead these past five months.”

 

“This is a problem” Nicholas spat out.  “As long as she feels safe where she is…as long as she can trust those…those people she’s with, she’s never going to see the value in the work we do here.” 

 

“She will.” Carol insisted, “Just give her ti…”

 

“Time?” Nicholas asked incredulously, “I’ve given her plenty of time…she’s had plenty of chances.” He shook his head, “She will get one more, but this time there will be no room for failure.  This time,” he said with a determined nod of his head, “I’m going to take care of the problem myself.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was part of the previous chapter. I cut it, because together, it made the chapter over 10K words. I hated cutting it because I think it flows much nicer together, but it is what it is. 
> 
> I'm really trying to add interest to Flynn and to Nicholas in this fic and I REALLY HOPE that I pull that off. Nicholas was a HUGE disappointment for me in S2...I thought he was going to be the BIG BAD and then he got shot in the face. Flynn has 10 minutes of redemption in the movie (a lot of it comes in the form of that letter) but we don;t see him really getting there. We weren't privy to his conversation with Lucy during the vodka thing in S2...we really don't see much of him doing anything but being kind of snarky and sneaky...and so I'm trying to create this persona for Flynn that ties in what we already know about him with what we know about Rittenhouse and their penchant for going after desperate folks in desperate circumstances. 
> 
> Lucy and Wyatt...let me just say as someone who is a STICKLER for fidelity...I needed these two back together. Divorces in CA take a minimum of 6 months (I looked it up) and so I basically had to slowly bring Lucy around to this idea of Wyatt had moved on...and the two of them shouldn;'t be punished for RH basically screwing with their lives. I tried to do it as respectfully as I could...with a nod to Lucy's insistence that she was not going to be "the other woman" but sort of getting pushed along by Rufus...who really needed to be a better friend in S2. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this update....we are heading into the homestretch...I anticipate only about 2...maybe 3 more chapters. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


	17. Leaving it up to Fate

Wyatt grimaced as sunlight filtering in from the grimy window above his co-joined bed pierced through the last vestiges of his dreamless sleep.  Not quite ready to open his eyes, he blindly reached out for Lucy, seeking her softness out amid the rough covers and blankets.  For the past few weeks, they had been happier than they had been since their time in Hollywood 1941 and while life in the bunker was considerably less irksome now that they were no longer weighed down by “what ifs”, it was still a bunker and therefore every moment they could steal for themselves was a precious one.      

 

It was with a little more than confusion then, that as Wyatt’s hand traveled over to where Lucy should have been, he found a whole lot of nothing.  Blinking hard, he cracked open his eyes and lifted his head, scanning the sun-drenched room in front of him as his gravelly voice called out, “Lucy?”

 

Unsurprisingly, there came no reply.  The door was closed, after all, and while their room was nicely sized for an underground bunker, there was really no where she could be without being readily visible to him. 

 

Throwing off the blankets and swinging his legs onto the floor, Wyatt took in the scene around him.  It wasn’t as early as he had first believed – the time on their bedside clock was a testament to that fact, shining back a bright 8:45AM.  Never one to sleep in that late, Wyatt huffed out a light chuckle, deciding that a few weeks’ worth of very little sleep had finally caught up with him. 

 

Not that he was complaining. 

 

Throwing on a t-shirt and slipping his feet into a comfortable pair of loafers, Wyatt wrenched open his bedroom door only to be greeted by the faint sound of music playing somewhere in the bunker.  Confused, Wyatt meandered his way down the hall, the echoes of a vintage swing band growing louder and steadier as he padded along silently in his slippered feet.  As he turned the corner, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, Wyatt froze at the sight before him.

 

The common room was abuzz with activity.  Rufus and Jiya were happily chatting and tinkering over the computer system, Mason was bouncing around the Lifeboat, humming to himself and running diagnostics, and even Garcia Flynn who had hardly emerged from his room since his talk with Agent Christopher, was lounging in his usual chair, tapping his foot in time with the music.  He had never seen the bunker looking more cheerful.    

 

While it brought a smile to his face to see his bunkmates in such high spirits, Wyatt’s attention, however, was almost wholly centered on Lucy.  There she was, in her floral robe, standing at the sink, her hair pulled back in a messy pony tail, doing the dishes while singing along to the jazz standards issuing forth from Mason’s vintage record player. 

 

_I wished on the moon, for something I never knew._

_Wished on the moon for more than I ever knew._

_A sweeter rose, a softer sky on April days._

_That would not pass away._

_I begged of the stars to throw me a beam or two_

_Wished on the stars and asked for a dream or two_

_I looked for every loveliness and it all came true._

_I wished on the moon for you._

Wyatt quietly approached her, smiling as she swayed in time to the music, her voice mingling with that of Billie Holiday.  He gently reached out and placed his hands on her hips, causing her to startle abruptly, and drop the mug she had been washing.  With lightning quick reflexes, Wyatt caught it before it hit the floor, handing it back to her with a smirk, “Careful there, ma’am.” He murmured before settling his hands back on her waist. 

 

She offered him a reproving glare, but a smile was firmly planted on her lips, “Decided to join the land of the living, I see.” she observed soundly as she attempted to turn back to the sink. “You missed breakfast…”

 

Wyatt, however, didn’t seem to mind.  Instead, he pulled her a little closer, his hand splayed on her back, swaying with her in time to the music until he realized they were being watched by none other than Garcia Flynn.  Wyatt stilled, casting a wary eye towards Flynn who didn’t seem to mind that he had been caught gawking at the two of them….in fact, he was smiling. “Can I help you?” Wyatt asked, his eyes narrowing.

 

“Don’t mind me.” Flynn said with a wave of his hand, “I…uh…was just getting some coffee.”  He sidled towards them, Flynn chuckling to himself as he made his way to the counter.

 

“What’s so funny?”  Wyatt bristled defensively as he stepped to the other side of Lucy so that Flynn could have better access to the coffee pot. 

 

Frowning as he poured himself a cup, Flynn muttered thoughtfully, “Nothing.  It’s just that song…it reminds me of my wife.” Wyatt exchanged an awkward glance with Lucy as they stood apart from Flynn, watching him stir in the creamer. “She used to drive me crazy…lying on the couch singing it day in, day out…but now it’s those little things like that I miss the most.” he admitted quietly. 

 

Never hearing Flynn talk much about his personal life, Lucy and Wyatt were taken aback by his sudden and unexpected disclosure.  They exchanged an awkward glance before Lucy cleared her throat and added with a sympathetic smile, ““My mother used to sing that song, too…it um…makes me remember her the way she used to be…before...all of this.”

 

 

 

Flynn nodded at her appreciatively, offering her a sad smile as he did so. “You know…you asked me what I would have done,” he said with some hesitancy, “if Rittenhouse had brought my wife and child back…” Flynn bit his lip, nodding as he kept his eyes trained to the floor, “One night, three years ago, I was putting my daughter to bed.” He chuckled softly, “She wanted to stay up later.  Ten more minutes, daddy…three more minutes…but like any good parent, I told her she needed to go to sleep.”  He took a sip of his coffee before quietly admitting, “The next time I saw her she was dead.”  He shot a quick glance to Lucy who was looking at him as if her heart were breaking.  Shaking his head ruefully, he said quietly, “You were right…since that night, I have done everything in my power to try to change that…but I failed.  If by some miracle…or some act of Rittenhouse they were suddenly alive again…”

 

Flynn trailed off, apparently lost in thought as the mournful melody of Billie Holliday’s _The Blues are Brewin’_ amplified the awkward silence that fell between them.  Remembering what Flynn had once said in regards to saving his family…that he would walk away from them, Lucy wasn’t sure whether what to say in response to Flynn’s admission.  He had done terrible things, yes…but he had also been desperate and driven to hopelessness…first, by his family’s murder and then by the accusation that he had been the one to kill them.  While she could never forget the Hell he put them through as he attempted to torch history, she had to admit, that none of them would have been aware of Rittenhouse’s agenda without Garcia Flynn…and for that, she had to be thankful.   Clearing her throat, she consoled, “I’m sorry, Flynn.  What you have gone through…it’s more than I think any of us can imagine.  I think we all have done things we aren’t proud of in this fight against Rittenhouse, but Flynn…there’s still a chance.  Your family, Amy…we can get them back…somehow, someway we can save the ones we love.”

 

Flynn frowned as he nodded his head, “Maybe…it would be nice to see my girls again.” 

 

Lucy quickly looked at Wyatt who was exhibiting more sympathy towards Flynn than she had ever seen from him in the time since they were all thrown together in this madness.  There was no judgement or disbelief in his eyes, only understanding.  Having Jessica brought back unexpectedly, having her apparently turned into some sort of agent, having his life turned upside down by Rittenhouse had given Wyatt a new perspective on just how twisted this evil organization was.  Rufus, completely oblivious to the solemn conversation currently underway, made his way over to them, “Look who finally decided to wake up…glad you could join us, Wyatt. I’ll have you know I had to cook breakfast this morning.”

 

The reaction to Rufus’ sudden disapprobation was met with self-consciousness from both Wyatt and Flynn…both men, clearing their throats and startling as Rufus approached.  Without another word, Flynn slipped away, back to his arm chair as Lucy gave Rufus a reproving scowl before countering huffily, “You didn’t have to.  I told you I would have been happy to do it.”

 

Rufus raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, but not all of us would have been happy to eat it, Lucy.”  As she glared at him, he raised up a hand in defense, “No, no…it’s okay…I don’t mind taking up the slack.  I get it, scrambled eggs are hard...for you…” Wyatt bit back a snicker as Rufus continued, “I just have to give old Delta Force here a hard time.  It’s damn near 9:00…aren’t you supposed to be up at the crack of dawn running 20 miles or something?”  

 

Wyatt sighed as he shoved a piece of bread in the toaster, “Don’t you have some work to do?”

 

“No…you know why?  Because I’ve been working all morning while you, lazy bones, have been sleeping the day away.”

 

“Hey, you’re the one who switched up the sleeping arrangements.” Wyatt reminded him, “I can’t help it If my roommate keeps me up at night.”

 

Rufus’ face split into a devilish grin, “Is that so?”

 

“Oh, get your head out of the gutter.” Wyatt spat out as he rolled his eyes in exasperation.  “She snores.”

 

“I do not!” Lucy gasped out, smacking Wyatt on the arm as she attempted to make her way back to the table.  Wyatt, however, wheeled her around, back into his arms, gave her a peck on the cheek, before she wriggled away with a sardonic smirk, “Don’t think that gets you off the hook...” she warned.

 

“I sure hope not.” Wyatt returned with a raise of his eyebrows.  “You can keep on keeping me up at night, ma’am.” Wyatt said with a wink, “I’d take your cute little grunts over Rufus’ buzzsaw any day of the week.”    

 

“Ha ha.” Lucy deadpanned, smacking Wyatt on the chest as Mason made his way over to the kitchen.

 

“I see my record player is being put to good use.” Mason observed, “It really does liven the place up a bit, doesn’t it?”

 

“Right?” Jiya said as she made her own way over to the little group forming in the kitchen, “It’s giving the bunker a total nostalgia vibe…it’s almost tolerable now.”

 

“Well…it’s no Josephine Baker.” Rufus quipped as he plopped down at the table, “but I’ll take a little Lady Day over a whole lot of nothing.”

 

“Wouldn’t we all?” Mason quipped as he poured his own cup of coffee.  “This place gets downright dreary sometimes…which reminds me, Agent Christopher has threatened to douse this place with Christmas cheer…so be on the lookout” he nodded his head meaningfully at the others, “she may be all business when it comes to our job here, but I’m told she is quite the…shall we say, Yuletide connoisseur.”

 

‘And who told you that?” Lucy asked with a quirked brow.

 

“You’re not the only one has had dinner with her family.” Mason responded with a nod of his head.  “Let’s just say Michelle gave me an entirely different view of our fearless leader.  She’s not all business suits and stoicism…apparently, she can be downright jolly.”

 

As everyone smiled at the thought of Agent Christopher being anything but the business-like persona that presented itself in the Bunker day in and day out, the woman herself came marching down the corridor towards the huddled group, a bemused look on her face.  “What’s this?  Happy hour?”

 

“No, actually…it’s _Sun Showers_ …Billie Holliday…we were just saying it livens up the place, doesn’t it?” Mason remarked as he made his way back to his work station.

 

“It certainly does.” Agent Christopher said with a serious nod of her head, “But I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news.  Wyatt, can I speak with you for a moment?”

 

Trading a solemn look with Lucy, Wyatt followed Agent Christopher down the hall, the cheerful music of the common room turning into a faint echo as he leaned up against the wall and turned his attention to the Homeland Security agent, “What’s going on?”

 

“I’m afraid Jessica is contending your divorce.” she sighed as she handed him a folder.  “There appears to be a new development.”

 

Wyatt took the proffered folder with an exasperated huff, his demeanor changing immediately the moment his eyes fell on the contents within.  Breathing out a curse and kicking the wall, Wyatt ran a rough hand through his hair as Lucy, who had been keeping an eye on the situation from the kitchen, quickly made her way to his side, “What is it?  What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly.

 

“Jessica.” came Wyatt’s short response as he let out a derisive chuckle.  “She’s claiming to be pregnant.”

 

“How…how is that possible?” Lucy stammered out.  “I thought you said she hadn’t seen you for five months?”

 

“I haven’t.” Wyatt gritted out.  “At least that’s what she told me…she said she thought I was dead.  As far as I know, I haven’t had any contact with her until the day we came back from New York.” he looked to Agent Christopher who nodded in acquiescence to that fact.  “And she sure as hell wasn’t pregnant when I saw her.”

 

“Well, I would hardly believe something like that was in the cards anyway.” Agent Christopher observed solemnly, “You two have been estranged for almost a year.”

 

“So why do it?  Why make up something like this?” Wyatt spat out. 

 

“Desperation.” Lucy answered cooly.  “They’ll use anything they can to try to manipulate you…throw you off…blindside you.”

 

“Yeah, well if she is Rittenhouse I doubt she’d make a good mother anyway.” Wyatt remarked, before quickly adding, “No offense, Lucy.”

 

Lucy merely shook her head at him and smiled.  She wasn’t about to begrudge Wyatt that bit of shade towards her mother considering all that she had done in order to keep them apart.  Bringing back Jessica, it now appeared, was just the tip of the iceberg.  A fake pregnancy?  Well, she was sure her mother had something to do with that too. 

 

But why?

 

“I don’t understand the logic behind this, though.” Lucy said as she took the folder from Wyatt and perused the contents.  “She has to know you wouldn’t believe her…so why do it?”  

 

“To prolong the divorce proceedings more than likely.”  Agent Christopher said with a sigh.  “I have to hand it to her…that’s a pretty bold move.  All we have to do is demand proof of pregnancy…then of course, there’s paternity tests that could be ordered in the rare case that she actually is pregnant…with the courts involved, it could take some time….and it might require a deposition…the two of you meeting before your respective lawyers.  I just wanted you to be aware.”

 

Wyatt nodded as Agent Christopher left the two of them alone and made her way back down the hall.  Wyatt was biting his lip and shaking his head, before he let out a curse and kicked at the wall, “Dammit, why the hell is she doing this?  She’s the one who signed the papers to begin with.”

 

“It’s okay, Wyatt.  Between Agent Christopher’s testimony that you couldn’t possibly have…you know…” she said with a gesture of her hand, “and the pregnancy tests…there’s no way any of this will hold up.  It’s just a road block…that’s it.”

 

“Yeah, but why?”  Wyatt said as he furrowed his brow, “It’s not like this is going to make me change my mind, if anything it convinces me that she’s not the woman I used to know…my Jess would never…I mean, I don’t think she would ever have done something like this.”

 

Lucy was about to respond when the jarring sound of the alarm called their attention to the LifeBoat.  With the vintage music still playing in the background, the noise of the sirens felt more jarring than usual, as their peaceful and almost joyous respite came to an abrupt end.  “What is it?” Lucy asked breathlessly as she and Wyatt raced towards Rufus, “Where did they go?”

 

Rufus peered at the computer screen, “South Carolina, June 1, 1863.  We’re going back to the Civil War again….yay.”

 

“Okay, so why South Carolina?” Agent Christopher asked with raised eyebrows.  “Fort Sumter?”

 

“No, no.” Lucy corrected, shaking her head, “Fort Sumter was in 1861…Fort Wagner isn’t until July…this…this has to be the Combahee River Raid.”

 

“The…say what, now?” Rufus asked as he turned in his chair and looked at Lucy with a face etched in confusion.

 

Breathing out a sigh of exasperation, Lucy explained, “The Combahee River Raid.  Basically, after Fort Sumter, the Confederates moved to defend the coast, obviously to be successful over a long period of time in the South, the North needed a way to supply and reinforce their troops, so waterways were important.”

 

“That’s why Vicksburg was such a big deal.” Wyatt said with a thoughtful nod.  At everyone’s surprised faces, he looked up affronted, “What?  How many times do I have to tell you?  I know military history.”

 

“Oh, so would you like to finish this lesson?” Lucy asked, folding her arms across her chest. 

 

“No, ma’am” Wyatt said with a smile and a shake of his head. 

 

“You tell him, Lucy” Flynn cheered as he went to take a sip of his coffee, “Defend your territory.”

 

As Wyatt rolled his eyes, Lucy continued, “Right…like Wyatt said, the Fall of Vicksburg in July 1863 is an enormously strategic victory for the Union as it opens up the Mississippi River to Union boats.  As Lincoln says at its fall, ‘the Father of Waters again goes unvexed to the sea.’”  She sighed, “So, you see for the North, clearing out harbors and mouths of rivers was something of a strategic necessity…particularly the further South they went.”

 

“So this raid…what?  Gets them the control they need?” Rufus asked. 

 

“Well, yes and no.” Lucy answered with a shrug.  “The Union forces capture Port Royal in November 1861.  Most of the plantation owners and farmers fled the area before the Union troops arrived, leaving countless slaves behind who were drafted into the Union Army.  In fact,” Lucy said with a nod of her head, “the 2nd South Carolina Infantry was formed from former slaves.”

 

“So what does this have to do with June 1863?” Agent Christopher asked as she narrowed her eyes. 

 

“Everything.” Lucy responded.  “Colonel Montgomery, the commander of the 2nd South Carolina Infantry, began developing a plan to fortify the South Carolina coastal rivers.  In order to do that, they needed to remove mines, seize control of any remaining plantations, and recruit more freed slaves into his army unit.”  Lucy ran a hand through her hair as she began pacing, “Colonel Montgomery was a zealot…he engaged in guerilla warfare tactics, showed little to no mercy…you know that scene in _Glory_ where the 54th Massachusetts are raiding that small town and that other regiment marches in and burns everything to the ground?  That was Colonel Montgomery.”

 

“So, you’re saying he’s definitely not Rittenhouse, then?” Rufus asked.

 

Lucy let out a laugh, “I’d hardly think so.  Rittenhouse generally wants to keep people under their control, I’d hardly believe one of them would be such a staunch abolitionist.”

 

“So why this raid?  Why now?”  Agent Christopher asked.  “What could Rittenhouse gain here?”

 

Lucy shook her head, “That’s just it…I’m not sure….”

 

“It couldn’t possibly be them trying to put a damper on the Underground Railroad, could it?” Mason asked thoughtfully as he made his way over to the huddled group. 

 

“No, the Underground Railroad was humming long before this…”Lucy muttered in response before gasping, “but…Harriet Tubman did assist Colonel Montgomery.  She led the slaves to safety while the troops performed the raids.”

 

“I always knew she was a bad ass.” Rufus nodded with pride, “but helping out the Union soldiers during an actual war?” 

 

“Oh yes,” Lucy said with a smile, “Do you know she was actually a Union spy?”

 

“I did know that, actually.” Mason said with a smile, “Even across the pond we have streets names after her.  Went by “The General” too, if I’m not mistaken.”

 

“That’s right.” Lucy said with a nod.  “She led so many slaves into British North America…to freedom…they didn’t just call her the General….they called her Moses.”  Lucy bit her lip pensively for a moment before looking to Wyatt and Rufus with a panicked expression, “Oh my God, what if they’re going after Harriet Tubman?  I mean, she not only helps free thousands of slaves…she’s active in the women’s suffrage movement later on”

 

“Well, considering they just tried to stop the 19th Amendment,” Wyatt stated meaningfully, “I’d think it would pretty safe to assume she’s their target.”

 

Lucy nodded at him as she swallowed hard, “We can’t let that happen.” she said breathlessly. 

 

“Don’t worry,” Wyatt assured her, “We won’t.”

 

***********

 

The sultry Southern summer air was already in full swing, though the sun had barely risen above the vast forest of trees that lay beyond the marshy coast of 1863 South Carolina.  Tall reeds stretched as far as the eye could see, lining the brackish water that wound its way into the heart of the Combahee River region. 

 

Swatting away a host of hungry mosquitos, Rufus lamented, “Damn mosquitos are gonna eat us alive.  Is West Nile a thing, yet?”

 

“No,” Flynn replied with a smirk, “but typhoid and dysentery killed about 150,000 soldiers…so be sure to wash your vegetables.”  He made his way over to where Wyatt was sitting, reading a map, as they all waited for Lucy to finish changing. “Any idea what we’re looking for?”

 

Wyatt looked up at Flynn, squinting as the sunlight blinded his vision, “Hell if I know.” he said with a sigh, “according to Lucy this raid isn’t just one target.  The Union army hits just about everything up and down this river.”

 

“That’s a lot of ground to cover…” Flynn observed.

 

“Um…that’s an understatement.” Rufus quipped as he looked at the expanse before them, “How are we going to find Harriet Tubman if we don’t have some kind of idea of where she might be?” Rufus asked in concern. “I mean, the woman is literally famous for not being caught.”

 

“You forget, Rufus,” Lucy grunted as she made her way over towards the huddled group and adjusted her long skirts, “we know where she is…well, where she’s supposed to be any way.  The only problem is…so does Rittenhouse.”  She looked to Wyatt, “Did the map help at all?  Do you think you can get us to Beaufort?”

 

“Yeah, I can get us there.” Wyatt stated, “But Lucy, why the hell are we going all the way over there?  If this raid is supposed to take place along this river, then why not just follow it until we run into the Union troops?”

 

“Because,” Lucy explained, “they didn’t march up and down the river.  About 300 men and Harriet Tubman from both the 2nd South Carolina Infantry and the 3rd Rhode Island Heavy Artillery will sail up and down the Combahee from Beaufort.  They will be led by Colonel Montgomery on a series of raids on several plantations here along the river.  These raids will not only resupply their own army with food and materials, they will also free about 750 slaves.”  Lucy shook her head, “The problem is, that if we don’t get to Beaufort in time, we won’t be able to warn them of a possible ambush.”

 

“Well, do we know where these boats will land?  Maybe we can make our way towards the landing points and head them off there?” Wyatt suggested. 

 

Taking the map from Wyatt, Lucy scanned its surface, furrowing her brow in concentration.  “Let’s see, _The Sentinel_ will run aground not long after they leave Beaufort at St. Helena Sound.  Colonel Montgomery will let out a small detachment of troops here at Fields Point where they will battle with the few Confederate troops in the region and then sail further up the river to Nicolas Plantation, where the _Harriet A Weed_ will remain anchored.  Harriet Tubman, however, stays on the last remaining boat, the _John Adams,_ all the way up to Combahee Ferry where a temporary pontoon bridge was erected.  Confederate troops try to stop the raid by reinforcing their troops still battling it out on this side of the river.  As they begin making their way across the bridge, they’re overwhelmed by the firepower from the _John Adams_ and forced to turn away.” 

 

“I’m no military expert,” Rufus admitted as he looked over Lucy’s shoulder at the map, “but you’d think, considering that this whole area opens up to a crap load of rivers, it would be kinda high on the Confederates priority list.  Why the hell wouldn’t they have a decent sized army over here defending this?  Not that I want them to win…but seriously…it just seems like the logical thing to do.”

 

Lucy shrugged, “Well, you’d be right, except that this is summer and we’re standing in a swamp.  Disease was a huge concern…not just malaria but smallpox, typhoid…”

 

“You can’t fight people when you’re dead.” Wyatt quipped with a quirk of his lip as Rufus shifted uncomfortably, swatting away a few more mosquitos with a look of sheer terror on his face. 

 

Lucy sighed, “So, because this area is sparsely defended…all of this area burns because of the actions of Montgomery’s men - plantations, a rice mill, homes…”

 

“Of course,” Flynn said with a definitive nod, “you can’t have people coming back and regaining control over a defeated area, especially when you’re trying to keep control of the waterways.”

 

“Right.” Wyatt agreed, “It probably also didn’t hurt that troops aren’t likely to march into a raging inferno.  Pretty sure gas masks weren’t standard equipment in their go bags.” Wyatt shrugged, “So you set the whole damn thing on fire, get back onto your boats and sail away with 750 freed slaves.”

 

“Well, it wasn’t quite that easy.” Lucy explained.  “The freed slaves under Harriet Tubman’s intelligence and guidance will make their way to the two boats…all while dodging Confederate troops here and there still trying to thwart their efforts.  But given the size of the boats, they couldn’t transport all the slaves at once.  The historical account states that the people were so desperate they held onto the boats, preventing them from leaving, almost capsizing it…until they were finally beaten back by oarsman with the promise that they would come back for the rest.  It took several trips, but they did it.” Lucy said proudly.  “So many people are given hope for a better life tonight, we can’t let Rittenhouse mess this up.”  

 

“If Rittenhouse is actually targeting Harriet Tubman,” Flynn began with a frown, “then why wouldn’t we just head to this pontoon bridge at Combahee Ferry and destroy it so they can’t make their way across and take control of this side of the river and overwhelm the Union boats?”  He shrugged, “If I were Rittenhouse, that’s what I would do.”

 

“Because we don’t know when Rittenhouse plans to target her.” Lucy explained with a sigh, “It could be before they even make their way onto the boats at Beaufort.  We have no way of knowing what their plans are…they could stop at St. Helena Sound and overwhelm them there.”

 

“I know this may not be a popular opinion,” Flynn suggested, “but why not split up?  Two of us can make our way to Beaufort to head them off there, while two of us make our way to this pontoon bridge and take it out so Rittenhouse and the Confederates can’t use it to their advantage?”

 

Lucy looked to Wyatt, gauging his reaction to the suggestion but to her surprise, Wyatt seemed open to it.  Nodding thoughtfully, he stated, “I think that might be our best option.  Knowing what we know about this raid and how it’s supposed to go, we can essentially cover more ground splitting up than staying together as one team.”  He looked at the map again, “There are just too many opportunities here for Rittenhouse to strike.   At any one of these points they could ambush this operation and sink these boats, hell they could have a boat waiting in the river for them and we’d never know.”  Looking to Lucy, Wyatt nodded, “Okay, we’ll go to Beaufort…Rufus, you and Flynn…”

 

“No.” Rufus stated with an adamant shake of his head, “No way in hell.  I appreciate that you want to go on adventures through time with your girlfriend, Wyatt…but we are in the South during the damn Civil War.  The odds aren’t exactly stacked in my favor, you know what I mean?”  Rufus continued to shake his head as he swatted at a few mosquitos, “And I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly up to date on my smallpox vaccines.”

 

“You think I’m going to leave Lucy?” Wyatt hissed.  “Would you leave Jiya?” 

 

“I thought we’ve established that we’re on the same side?” Flynn said in a voice filled with exasperation.  “I think I’ve proven that I have no interest in helping Rittenhouse.”

 

“No offense, Flynn” Rufus quipped, “but Wyatt has never shot me…or had me shot…or shot at me.  I know you’ve turned over a new leaf, man…but when it comes down to not just my life, but my freedom…I’m going to go with the guy who has always had my back.” 

 

“And I’m telling you, Rufus,” Wyatt argued, “that as long as Lucy has a target on her back, I’m not going to trust her safety to anybody else.”

“And it’s not like Rittenhouse won’t exploit that...” Flynn muttered huffily, causing Wyatt to roll his eyes in frustration.   He knew that Rittenhouse had more than taken advantage of his and Lucy’s relationship, but he would still feel a hell of a lot better if it was him calling the shots when it came to Lucy’s safety than Flynn.

 

“Look, why don’t we just draw straws?”  Lucy suggested.  “And then we’ll flip a coin to see who goes where?” 

 

“Too risky.” Wyatt said with a shake of his head.  “Both of you need a soldier and…”

 

“Fine.” Lucy interrupted, “Rufus and I will flip a coin.  Heads, I go with you, tails, I go with Flynn.” Wyatt made to argue, but Lucy talked over him, “We’re going to leave it up to fate.”

 

Wyatt glared at her, “You know how I feel about that…”

 

“I know.” Lucy said with a terse nod, “but Wyatt, Flynn is right…it doesn’t matter if I’m with you or not, Rittenhouse will do whatever they can to use one of us as leverage against the other.  So why beat ourselves up over things we can’t control?  Flipping a coin takes the decision out of our hands.”

 

“Besides,” Rufus added, “I know you guys are in love and all of that, but we’re a family…it wouldn’t matter to me if it was you, Wyatt, Lucy…or even Flynn…if Rittenhouse had any one of your lives in the balance…it would affect me.”

 

Lucy nodded, “Exactly.  We’re all in this together.  We’re a team…no matter what.”

 

Sighing heavily, Wyatt checked his borrowed clothes for loose change, smirking when he came up empty.  “Well, looks like fate is on my side…no coin, no coin toss.”

 

“I’ve got one!” Rufus announced as he dusted off a penny from his trouser pocket.  He chuckled, “What are the odds of that…in this day and age?  The black man has the money while the white man goes empty handed?” He flipped the coin and slapped it down on his wrist, “Tails was Lucy with Flynn, right?”

 

“Right.” Lucy said with a nod and wary look towards Wyatt. 

 

Picking it up and showing it to the rest of the group, Rufus exclaimed, “Well, it’s settled then…you’re with Flynn…I’m with Delta Force.”

 

“Congratulations.” Wyatt said darkly to Rufus as he stalked away, “Today must be your lucky day.”

 

“Wyatt,” Lucy consoled as she chased after him, “it’s going to be okay.  I trust Flynn…he’s not going to let anything happen to me.”

“It’s not Flynn I’m worried about.” Wyatt explained, “Lucy, I almost lost you…we’re in the middle of a damn war…it’s not just Rittenhouse out there…”

 

“I can handle a couple of farmers playing soldier.” Flynn interjected. 

 

“And that’s your problem.” Wyatt spat out, “These aren’t just farmers…why the hell do you think this war lasted as long as it did?  These Generals, these officers were all part of the Union at one point…educated at some of this country’s finest military academies...”

 

“Wyatt, it’ll be fine.” Lucy soothed. 

 

“I don’t like it, Lucy.” he said with a shake of his head, “you could get caught up in some battle, some skirmish…”

 

“And it wouldn’t matter if I was with you or with Flynn.” she reminded him.

 

Biting his lip, Wyatt stared at the expanse in front of them his mind filled with unspeakable anxieties about the mission before them, “Fine.” he murmured after a long while, “but answer me one question…what’s the situation between here and Beaufort?”

 

Lucy shrugged, “It’s under Union control for the most part.  I think there’s some small Confederate forces here and there, but as far as I know, they are positioned further North and South.  It should be a safe trip to Beaufort.”

 

“Then that is where I want you and Flynn to go.” Wyatt said with a decisive nod of his head, “Rufus and I will take out the pontoon bridge.  He turned to her seriously, “You do whatever you can to get on one of those damn boats and we’ll meet at Combahee Ferry, alright?”

 

Lucy sighed as she stared up into Wyatt’s face, etched in concern.  A million questions flew through her head, _What if they couldn’t get on one of the boats?  What if the boats had already left by the time they got to Beaufort?  What if Rittenhouse ambushed them on their way to Harriet Tubman? What if the boats were over run at any one of the points along the way?_ but she knew that none of those questions would make Wyatt feel any better about their plan…on the contrary it would make him hate it all the more.  Swallowing hard, she steadied her voice, and looked at him with a face full of determination, “We’ll be there.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me first apologize for being SO long in updating this...I really feel awful. I have been SO busy....Easter, birthdays, spring and all the events/beautiful weather/demands it brings....I have just been inundated. There's not much left in this fic....two more chapters...maybe three at the most is all I'm anticipating. We are RIGHT AT THE END. 
> 
> You'll notice that I have changed The General quite a bit...one thing that frustrates me in that episode is that the real Combahee River Raid is sort of lost...and it didn;t have to be! This was actually a very neat operation, one that, because it was so successful, was reapplied in other areas...and so I wanted to change it up a bit so that the real raid had a chance to shine. I hope you like what I have in mind for it and I hope you learn a thing or two along the way. 
> 
> The Jessica pregnancy, I wasn't originally going to include at all...because I hate it, but as I started writing the chapter, I felt it needed something and I thought making fun of it as sort of a last desperate act was sort of my way of showing how unnecessary and really silly it was. I think back on all of our conversations after that episode on how did she know? Did AC buy her a pregnancy test? Why was she drinking alcohol? And well, for the purposes of this fic, I wanted it to be clear that she was a lying liar who would do anything and everything to try to manipulate the situation in her favor by appealing to Wyatt's emotional side....that'll come into play again later (HINT) 
> 
> I really hope I'm not as long in updating this as I was this last time, but I can't make any promises, particularly when I know I have more demands coming upon me as we close out our school year and prepare for summer vacations. Just know I will never abandon this or any of my fics, because I'm just not wired that way. I will work until the late hours to get them done if that is what needs to happen. Just know that I am always striving to work on these as much as I possibly can when opportunities arise. I take my laptop with me just about everywhere to squeeze out as many writing windows as I can manage. 
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoyed this update! Have a great week!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember this fic? Yeah, I know it's been months. I'm still not finished with it, but these next two chapters have been done for about 2 months and while I've slowly been working on the conclusion (because Stranded and Once Upon a Highway has taken precedence) I'm hoping that if I just go ahead and start publishing what I have done will motivate me to finally finish it out for you.   
> This fic is going to get a little complex (it's one of the reasons it has taken me so long...I dread writing all of the twists and turns out) but I hope it will be enjoyable for you. We're right at the end and depending how long the narrative gets I don't expect more than three more chapters of this. 
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy this update! Happy Reading!

Finding horses wasn’t a difficult task, given the era.  As Lucy had stated, the Low Country, known for its marshes and swamp like conditions, had been largely abandoned.  The war and the added threat of disease had moved people away from their rustic lodgings and into the cities where news, supplies and medical care were more readily available.  Only the larger plantation homes and farms seemed to stand defiantly against the inevitable wave of destruction that was slowly but surely mounting against them.  Tonight, if all went as it was supposed to, those few remaining would be swept away by the devastating actions of about 300 men who knew what it was to be subjugated by a field hand’s whip.

 

The horses saddled and prepared, Wyatt held onto the reins as Lucy mounted, her anxiety evident as she lifted a shaky hand to the horn in order to boost herself up onto the steed.  She had just finished adjusting herself and her skirts when she reached for the reins and Wyatt’s hand closed over hers.  “Be careful.”  he muttered softly, causing her to still in her work and cast a desperate look into his worried face.

 

“You too.” Lucy said with a terse nod as he gave her hand a comforting squeeze.   She wished she could promise him that nothing would go wrong, that everything would be okay, but she found her voice was lost somewhere in the confines of her throat.  It may have made the most logistical sense to split up, cover more ground…but she couldn’t help but notice the nagging voice in her head that told her this was a bad idea.  How would they communicate?  If something went wrong, how would the other group know?  “Wyatt…” she began but Flynn mounted his horse and coughed, causing them both to startle at the sudden intrusion.  Turning abruptly in her saddle, Lucy looked towards a waiting Flynn, “You ready?” she asked timidly.

 

“Following your lead.” he responded with a curt nod. 

 

Casting one last look at Wyatt, Lucy steeled up her courage and nodded determinedly, “I’ll see you tonight.” she uttered quietly before urging her horse forward, not wanting to think about the litany of “what ifs” that were currently parading through her mind.  It was only a 20-mile ride to Beaufort, though with the inevitable checkpoints, creek crossings, and the occasional trouble maker on the way, Lucy imagined it would probably take them a little over two hours to get there.   The boats weren’t supposed to push off until this evening, but given that Rittenhouse was apparently looking to change things, she wasn’t going to lull herself into a false sense of security by allowing herself to believe they had plenty of time.  The truth of the matter was, they had no idea what they were up to, but if Harriet Tubman was indeed, a target, then they were going to have to cover all their bases…before Rittenhouse had a chance to act. 

 

It was too risky not to. 

 

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, so too did the temperature and though she was laden down with layer upon layer on fabric, she knew that her horse was probably feeling the effects doubly.  Patting its neck gently as she slowly led it to a small creek for some much-needed rest and refreshment, she took in their surroundings. 

 

Tall grasses and swamps had given way to tall trees and forests, though the swampy conditions remained.  The sun was blazing in the bright blue sky and though the canopy of trees above them offered some much-needed shade, they also served to block out any breeze, making the air thick, hot, and oppressive.  Lucy let out a heavy sigh as she fanned herself with her hand, casting an uneasy glance towards Flynn whose horse slowed to a stop next to hers.  “It’s been awfully quiet.” she observed in a shaky voice. 

 

“Would you rather have run into a battalion of Confederate soldiers?” Flynn asked glibly as his horse lowered his head for a drink. 

 

“No.” came Lucy’s quick reply.  She knew that she was being silly.  She had told Wyatt herself that this area was under Union control and though she knew that the Union forces were focusing their attention on the upcoming raid, the total lack of… _anything_ made her nervous…and not so much for herself and Flynn.  “Do you think Wyatt and Rufus will have any problems going to Combahee Ferry?”

 

“I don’t know.” Flynn stated with a frown, “I’m afraid you have the advantage here when it comes to this particular period in history.”

 

“Not a fan of the Civil War?”

 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Flynn countered.  “I followed the bigger battles somewhat…Gettysburg, Bull Run, Shiloh, Vicksburg…but beyond that,” Flynn shook his head with a frown, “For American history, I was more interested in the Revolutionary era.”  The corners of his mouth lifted into a slight grin as he reflected, “Meeting George Washington was probably one of the most amazing things I have ever had the opportunity to do in my life.”

 

Lucy smiled to herself, remembering that harrowing mission.  A shaky alliance formed out of desperation that led not only to the death of David Rittenhouse, but also Benedict Arnold and Lord Cornwallis.  She had been furious, kicking herself for agreeing to team up with Flynn in the first place, an alliance she had only agreed to because…

 

“So, what you’re saying is that you would never have killed George Washington?” she asked him with a quirked brow. 

 

“I killed Lincoln.” Flynn said with a shrug, “but yes, Washington would have been a tough one…even for me.” he admitted with a smirk.  “I think you forget how desperate I was back then…”

 

“Back then?  You aren’t now?” Lucy asked in surprise, “I thought you were still determined to get your family back?”

 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Flynn worked his jaw, clearly thinking carefully over his next words.  When he finally did speak, his voice was quiet, subdued, almost reverent, “I think you and I both know I will never get them back, not in this lifetime, anyway.”

 

“Don’t say that Flynn.” Lucy pleaded seriously, “I gave you that journal for a reason…you said yourself that it was the key to saving them.”

 

“I thought it was….at one time.” Flynn agreed with a frown, “but maybe I was wrong about that…maybe I was wrong about a lot of things.”

 

Recalling that she had lobbed that accusation at Flynn in 1892, Lucy cast him a wary glance, “So, we weren’t supposed to be ‘quite the team one day’?  That was just something you made up so I’d help you?”

 

“I didn’t say that.” Flynn said with a slight chuckle, “Though you are nothing like the Lucy who wrote the journal…she was…”

 

“Impressive.  I know,” she said with an eye roll, “you’ve told me.” Lucy pursed her lips in thought as she urged her horse onward once more, their pace slowing considerably as they made their way through the thick underbrush of the forest.  Frowning slightly, she turned to Flynn, “I can’t tell whether that’s a compliment or a criticism.”

 

“Does it have to be a compliment or a criticism?” Flynn asked plainly, “I was merely making an observation…that this version of you is not nearly as ruthless as the version I came to know in the journal.”  Flynn shook his head, “While I think it would be impressive seeing you fight against Rittenhouse with the intensity some other version of yourself possessed, I have to say…”

 

“What?” Lucy asked when Flynn failed to continue his train of thought after a few moments. 

 

Flynn shook his head, attempting to ward off any further discussion, reminding Lucy that they were on a mission and therefore, should remain focused on the task at hand, but Lucy, seeing no immediate danger before them, and far too interested in what Flynn’s assessment of her in the flesh was as in compared to the one he had merely read about, continued to press him until with some hesitancy he admitted, “The truth is Lucy, I greatly admire you.  Rittenhouse has done everything in their power to hurt you and yet, you never seem to be affected. You’ve been able to resist their offers of money, power…legacy,” he added with a meaningful nod, “you never let what they do change who you are…not like it changed me.”

 

“I don’t know about that.” Lucy muttered quietly after a long while.  “I killed a man, you know?  To prove my loyalty.”  She looked off into the distance as she admitted sorely, “He begged me not to do it…but I just looked at him and said “I’m sorry” and pulled the trigger.” Flynn looked at her in surprise as she explained, “I wasn’t supposed to leave that mission alive…I was going to end it all then…no more Mothership, no more time travel…no more _legacy_.”

 

“What made you change your mind?” Flynn asked softly.

 

Lucy let out a watery chuckle, “Wyatt.”  Flynn raised his eyebrows in sudden understanding as Lucy continued, “They told me he was dead,” she let out a derisive laugh, “but he wasn’t.  He came to find me in 1918.  There I was, grenade in hand…planning to blow up the Mothership and my mother and myself with it…and suddenly, he was there…and…well, I couldn’t go through with it after that.”

 

The rode on in silence for a while before Flynn observed, “You know…when my wife and daughter died…I wanted to die too.  My entire world had ended.” He cast a sideways glance towards Lucy as he continued, “you were the one who gave me a reason to live on…to fight.”

 

“Because of my journal?” she asked.

 

Flynn nodded, “It gave me hope…and I had been without hope for so long…so I guess, what I want to say is…thank you…for giving me a purpose again.”

 

“And what purpose is that?”

 

“To rid the world of Rittenhouse.” he said determinedly, “present company excluded, of course.” he added with a smile.

 

Lucy couldn’t help but smile, but as they rode on her thoughts turned dark again, thinking about that soldier she had murdered in that small French cabin.  “I will always wonder if he was supposed to die…” she blurted out suddenly, “or if, my killing him erased the children and grandchildren he was supposed to have.”  Lucy scoffed as she adjusted the reins in her hands, “I could be solely responsible for the erasure of countless people, because of that one horrible decision.” She bit her lip in contemplation before adding, “How does that make me any different than Rittenhouse…or my mother?

 

“You are nothing like your mother.” Flynn assured her again firmly, but at her derisive and disbelieving laugh, Flynn insisted, “No, Lucy.  You care about others.  I treated you horribly and yet you somehow trust me enough to put your life in my hands,” he snapped his fingers dramatically, “just like that.”

 

“Well, I don’t know if it was quite so fast…”

 

“Your mother,” Flynn continued, talking over her, “she only sees people as a means to an end.”  When she came to me in prison, she didn’t care about me.  She didn’t care about my wife or my daughter…or the fact that it was her people who had had them killed.  She only wanted to use me…to get to you.  To help Rittenhouse win.” 

 

“It had to appeal to you somewhat.” Lucy muttered thoughtfully as Flynn shifted uncomfortably, “A chance to have your family back?  I mean, that’s why you stole the time machine to begin with.”

 

“I stole it to rid the world, rid history, of Rittenhouse.”  Flynn corrected as he sighed and adjusted the reins in his hands, “I hoped that by doing that, it would bring my girls back; that by wiping them out of existence, my family would have never been killed.”

 

Lucy swallowed hard knowing that it was her family that had caused - not just Flynn, but all of them, so much pain.  Her mother that had completely turned their lives upside down, driven them to live in secrecy, hiding away in an old government bunker.  She thought of Wyatt and how the memory of Jessica was now tainted by this warped version that Rittenhouse had created.  She thought of Rufus and how his family had no idea he was even alive.  Mason’s entire legacy and financial holdings had been completely wiped away…and yet, none of them had ever blamed her.  None of them had ever considered that she was the one who had begun all of this…with that journal.   

 

Well, everyone except Flynn. 

 

“I’m…I’m so sorry Flynn.  It’s…awful what they’ve done to you…to all of us.”  She swallowed hard as she muttered, “I know they’re my family, but…” 

 

“That’s not who you are.” Flynn said with a slight frown, “Your propensity to forgive, to see and hope for the best in people…that’s what sets you apart.”  He nodded his head reassuringly, “You might have killed a man Lucy, but you’re not a monster.”

 

“Well, for the record…neither are you.” Lucy added with a sigh, “Rittenhouse hasn’t exactly made things easy for any of us.  I think we’ve all done things we aren’t proud of.”

 

Flynn nodded in assent as he frowned pensively.  “You didn’t kill because you wanted to, Lucy.” He said quietly, “I did.  I wanted to make them pay for what they had done to my family.  I wanted to destroy Rittenhouse…and I didn’t care who I had to hurt to see it done…including you.”

 

“Flynn…”

 

“No, Lucy, I’ve done some terrible things, I’ve hurt a lot of people…and it was all for nothing.  My family is still dead and Rittenhouse is still changing history.”

 

“Trying to change history.” Lucy corrected him with fierce determination.  “We’re not going to let them win.  We can’t let them win.”  She reined in her horse and rounded on him, “You may have hurt people in the past, Flynn…but you’re making up for that now.  You are no different than me, Rufus, Wyatt…we’re all in this together, alright?”  She nodded her head determinedly, “We’ve all been hurt.”

 

Hardly daring to argue with her, Flynn nodded his assent as they pushed forward onto Beaufort.  Their ride was uneventful, which Lucy was more than a little grateful for, but as they trotted into the bustling Sea Island town, Lucy couldn’t help but feel a bit apprehensive.  There was a tension in the air, with Union troops bustling here and there, frantically racing through the town and gathering in small groups to have hushed, yet animated conversations.  Lucy, of course, knew that they were gearing up for what was to be the Combahee River Raid later that night, but something seemed…off.  Looking towards Flynn as they rode through the town towards the Union headquarters near the First Baptist Church, Lucy noted that she wasn’t the only one feeling a bit nervous about the uproar in the town; Flynn was looking just as apprehensive as she was. 

 

Dismounting her horse quickly, Lucy approached a Union Lieutenant standing post outside of what she knew to be Colonel Montgomery’s headquarters, “We need to speak with Colonel.” Lucy said breathlessly, “We’re scouts…sent here from Generals Hunter and Gillmore out of Charleston…we have some information, that may prove useful for your raid tonight.”

 

“Raid?” scoffed the lieutenant, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, miss.”

 

“I know that the Colonel Montgomery is organizing a raid on the Combahee River this evening,” Lucy stated firmly with a bit of exasperation in her voice, “This raid is vital to the Union war effort in controlling South Carolina’s harbors and supply lines.  General Hunter and General Gillmore are depending on it.”

 

“That raid has been called off, ma’am.” The lieutenant replied with a quirk of his lip.  “Early this morning we received word that the Confederates were making a move into the Low Country…so of course, we sent out a few scouts to check things out.  Long about 11 o’clock this morning, these fellas came hobbling into town” he stated pointing to a group of wounded soldiers sitting outside a boarding house, “telling us that their position on the east side of the Combahee had been overrun by Confederates…outnumbered them five to one…they were chased all the way across the river, barely made it out of there alive. 

 

“What?” Lucy gasped in horror, “How?”

 

He nodded towards a man with a sling on his arm, “That fella right there overheard a couple of the Rebs talking, Colonel Ryerson had his troops march in and take hold of Middleton plantation, word is they’re planning an attack on Beaufort and Port Royal soon.”

 

“Who?”  Lucy asked in bewilderment. 

 

The lieutenant laughed at her, “Don’t you read the papers? Colonel Ryerson is just about as big as General Lee these days.  He seems to swoop in at just the right time…like he knows what we’re planning before we plan it…almost like he could see the future.”

 

Lucy exchanged a glance with Flynn, “Yeah, that’s really something.” she muttered knowingly.  So, they knew who the sleeper was…this Colonel Ryerson and with a host of Confederate forces at his disposal ready to launch an assault before the Union troops could pounce, he had already effectively changed history without really firing a single shot.  Thanking the lieutenant, Lucy stepped away with Flynn, her mind buzzing with the implications of the failure of this raid.  “This is bad.  We can’t let this happen.  If that sleeper takes out Beaufort,” Lucy whispered as she looked at the Union soldiers dotted throughout the sleepy, coastal Southern town, “the North will lose control of the supply lines, Vicksburg could be liberated, it could completely change the tide of the war…”

 

“Yes, but Lucy,” Flynn argued, “they are being led by a man who knows what’s supposed to happen.  He’s got hundreds of men under his command…there are only four of us.” He scoffed, “unless you can convince Colonel Montgomery to lend you an Army, I think we’re going to have to come up with another plan.”

 

“There’s no time for another plan,” Lucy contended hotly, “right now Wyatt and Rufus are…” she gasped in horror as her widened eyes met Flynn’s, “Wyatt and Rufus!  Oh my God, Flynn, they’re walking right into a trap.  They could have been mixed up in all of that fighting. They could…”

 

“You don’t know that.” Flynn interrupted her soothingly, “As much as I hate to admit it, Wyatt is no fool…he’s not likely to run right into a camp full of Confederate soldiers…especially not with Rufus.  If anything, he’ll see the danger, and act accordingly.” 

 

Lucy nodded attempting to loosen the knot of anxiety that was tightly wound in her chest, but it was no use, there was too much at stake, too many things that could go wrong, “They don’t know that the mission has been called off…they’re going in there, expecting the Union soldiers to show up.  They’re expecting us, Flynn…and how are we going to get to them without getting caught ourselves?  I mean…if what they’re saying is true, the Confederates have control of the whole region around the Combahee right now.”

 

Flynn, seeing that she was still obviously unnerved, placed a soothing hand on her shoulder, “It’ll be alright, Lucy.  He’ll figure it out. He…”

 

“We have to find a way back to them.” she interrupted with a frantic shake of her head, “We need to regroup…figure out something together here…”

 

 We can’t risk getting ourselves caught.” Flynn reminded her, “We need to be in a position to stop Rittenhouse…stop this Colonel Ryerson if Wyatt and Rufus can’t…” he bit his lip, not wanting to make Lucy any more nervous and upset than she already was.  “Listen, I know it’s hard, but Wyatt is more than capable of handling situations like this.  He’ll figure out a way to get himself and Rufus to safety without us crossing into Confederate lines,” he let out a derisive chuckle, “unless, of course, you know your way around the backwoods of South Carolina…”

 

“I don’t.” Lucy breathed out, “but I know someone who does.”  Turning quickly on her heel and jogging back towards the church, Lucy accosted the same lieutenant who was now making his way across the street, “Excuse me!” she called out desperately, “please, can you tell me where I can find Harriet Tubman?”

 

“The General?” the lieutenant asked with a smirk, “why do you want to know?”

 

Lucy looked back at him desperately, “I need her help.”

 

 

***********

 

“You gonna be okay?” Rufus tentatively asked Wyatt as he stood watching Lucy ride off with Flynn.  It was clear he was worried, but Wyatt said nothing.  Instead, he turned on his heel and headed back to the map he had discarded next to an old stump.  After perusing it for some time, he looked to Rufus with a sigh, “Well, we’re gonna get wet.”

 

Nodding at what he deemed to be a logical conclusion given the swampy scene around them, Rufus followed anxiously in Wyatt’s wake, constantly looking over his shoulder, obviously nervous about his particular situation running around in the South during the Civil War. His only consolation was that he was with Wyatt, who, as he was dressed as a farmer, could easily pass as a Southerner…particularly with his Texas twang and so if they did meet any trouble, Wyatt would be able to cover for him…unless, of course, they asked for papers.

 

Not wanting to think about the implications that would arise should they find themselves without proper identification in a paranoid South, Rufus trudged on as quickly as he could, hoping that their time in 1863 would be mercifully short and without incident. 

 

And for a long while there were no incidents.  Occasionally they found themselves knee-deep in brackish water, but given the heat of the day, neither Wyatt nor Rufus complained, if anything they found those stretches of their long journey refreshing.  It did, however, slow their progress and that made Wyatt more than a little anxious…without being able to move swiftly, they were vulnerable.  If they did run into trouble, they needed to be able to move…and move fast.  Pulling out the map again, Wyatt was just about to motion to Rufus to make his way towards more solid ground when some movement caught his eye. “Get down” he whispered to Rufus as they ducked in the midst of the tall reeds. 

 

There, a few hundred yards ahead of them they saw, much to their relief, a small troop of Union soldiers, 20-30 at most, marching along a muddy road that led into a sprawling forest. 

 

“What’s going on?” Rufus asked as he turned to Wyatt. 

 

“I don’t know.” Wyatt murmured, “That looks like a reconnaissance team…scouts…”

 

“Um…if this place is supposed to be empty, why do they need reconnaissance?” Rufus asked nervously.    

 

 “I don’t know.” Wyatt murmured as he scanned the horizon, “but I don’t like it.  Something isn’t right.”  Solemn and alert, Wyatt made his way as silently through the water and reeds as he could until he once again found solid ground.  Turning to Rufus, he whispered, “Just stay close…we’re gonna follow those guys…see what they’re out here for.”

 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Rufus hissed back anxiously, “Obviously they are out here for a reason…and if that reason is the Confederate army…well, I really don’t want to run into them, if it’s all the same to you.”

 

They had not gone far up the muddy road when suddenly, the sound of gunfire rent the air, causing Wyatt to grab Rufus by the arm and duck him behind the trunk of a tall Loblolly pine.  The branches were far too high up the trunk to provide any kind of significant cover, but thankfully, the tall grass lining the dirt path on which they had been walking, shielded them from view as they crouched down on the ground.  Peering through the underbrush, Wyatt could see movement further up ahead, coupled with little puffs of smoke that followed every volley of rifle fire.

 

“What the hell?” Rufus breathed out in a panicked voice.  “Lucy said there weren’t any Confederates over here anymore!”

 

Wyatt shrugged, “Looks like she was wrong…or,” Wyatt surmised with a serious nod, “we’re too late.”

 

“You don’t think they’ve already taken out Harriet Tubman, do you?” Rufus whispered harshly. 

 

“Let’s hope not.” Wyatt said with a quirk of his head.  “But if she’s supposed to be arriving with the Union troops on that boat, then I’d venture a guess that she’s okay.  We, on the other hand, not so much.”

 

“Don’t tell me that.” Rufus murmured despondently with his head in his hands, “maybe there’s just a couple of them…maybe these are just a couple of stragglers.”

 

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Wyatt said tersely, “There’s a lot of movement up there…and it’s definitely more troops than what we just saw.”  As gunfire erupted all around them, Wyatt considered what Lucy had told them that morning.  The Union was supposed to have control over most of this area…but they had only seen that small troop…a reconnaissance team, which was now being attacked.  If the Confederate army wasn’t supposed to reach this region until tonight via the pontoon bridge then…something had to have changed….and Wyatt was sure Rittenhouse was behind it.  “This…this is an ambush.  We’re too damn late.”      

 

“What do you mean, we’re too late?” Rufus asked anxiously, “This raid isn’t supposed to go down until tonight!”  

 

Wyatt shook open the map and pointed roughly to the river, “The Union is supposed to come up this river, pretty much unchallenged…no one is supposed to be here.” he reminded him pointedly, “By reinforcing their position, preparing for this raid…if the Confederates get troops on both sides of this river it’s gonna completely bottleneck the Union ships.  They’re gonna be hit with fire from both sides making it nearly impossible for this thing to go down tonight.  They’ll be sitting ducks.”

 

“Wyatt,” Rufus gasped in panic, “Lucy…Flynn…if they get on those boats…”

 

“I know, Rufus.” Wyatt interjected sharply.  His nerves were on edge.  If the Union Army were sailing into a trap, then Lucy and Flynn would be caught right in the crosshairs…that is, if they had even made it to Beaufort.  “We need to figure out just how many damn troops are actually here…get a good idea of what they’re going to be up against…and then we need to figure out a way to warn them.”

 

“And just how are we supposed to do that?”  Rufus asked him incredulously.  “We’re two people…even if we did manage to do a headcount, how the hell are we going to get that news all the way to Beaufort in time to stop this thing?”  

 

Rufus had him there.  He had no clue what the hell they were going to do now.  If it turned out he was right and the Confederates had already buoyed up their position along the Combahee then the raid that was to free so many men, women and children would fail before it even began.  Wyatt thought back to 1918; that Captain who had captured him had risen through the ranks, earned the trust of his men…had been implanted in the past for years.  If the same was true here, if the Confederates were being led by a man who knew how this was all supposed to play out, the Union had no chance. 

 

Unless Lucy got there safely and could convince them to do something about it. 

 

She was no military strategist, but she knew this war, she knew the players, she would understand the consequences better than any of them…but if she didn’t know there was even a reason to switch gears…

 

Dammit. 

 

He and Rufus were pinned down, possibly surrounded by Confederate forces…and Lucy and Flynn were flying blind.  If that weren’t enough to set his heart racing, Rittenhouse probably had a sleeper leading this whole thing and, while Wyatt wasn’t the historian Lucy was, he was pretty damn sure that if that were, in fact the case, it could change the entire outcome of the Civil War. 

 

As the sounds of the skirmish died away and the sounds of gunfire were replaced with the twittering of birds, Wyatt slowly emerged from their hiding place and cautiously stepped forward.  Motioning to Rufus, Wyatt urged him forward, still taking care to keep to the tree line in case they needed to duck and cover once more.  As it was, however, the road ahead of them remained almost unnervingly quiet; they had been witness to what they soon became aware was a deadly clash between Confederate forces and what appeared to be a small scout team of black Union soldiers, the condition of their uniforms indicating that they had seen very little in the way of battle.

 

Well…before today, anyway. 

 

Grim-faced Wyatt scanned the men laying around them, some donned in blue, others in drab gray but there appeared to be no survivors.  Hearing a rustling nearby, Wyatt whispered to Rufus to get down as he took careful aim with his gun.  With bated breath, he watched and waited until finally, three figures emerged, a woman, and two men…all of them African American.  Heaving out a sigh of relief, Wyatt holstered his weapon and lifted his arms in surrender as guns were quickly pointed in his direction, “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Wyatt called out to them, motioning to Rufus with his head to join him in the road.  “We’re here to help.”

 

 “You’re here to help who?” came the woman’s gruff voice, as she continued to aim her rifle at them, steady and unwavering in her stance. 

 

“We’re with the Union.” Wyatt called out.  “We heard there’s going to be raid along the river tonight and we wanted to see what we could do to help out the cause.”

 

Still not lowering her weapon, the woman responded with a scoff, “You’re late.  T’aint gonna be no raid tonight.  Rebs done chased away the soldiers that was here…got a big ol’ army setting up and down the river now.”

 

Wyatt exchanged a look with Rufus, “That’s not supposed to happen…I mean,” he corrected himself with a shake of his head, “there’s got to be a way to drive them off.”

 

Laughing, the woman shouldered her rifle and shook her head at them, “Right now they’s got Colonel Montgomery outnumbered five to one.  These fine boys here were the last of my scout unit.  Seeing as how they’s dead now, it’ll take a miracle from the good Lord above to see this raid through.” 

 

“But all those slaves…” Rufus countered with a look of alarm, “they were supposed to be set free tonight.”

 

“S’right” she added with a disappointed nod, “A lot of good folk was depending on us…and I’m not one to let them down.  You’re welcome to join me, if you want…but I’m telling you right now, it ain’t gonna be easy.”

 

Realization dawned on Rufus’ face as he stood there gaping at her, “You’re…you’re Harriet Tubman, aren’t you?”

 

“Do I know you?” she asked as she narrowed her eyes.

 

“No…no ma’am.” Wyatt answered, a little awe-struck, “But you’re...well, you’re a legend where we come from.”

 

“And where is that?”

 

“Really…really far up north.” Rufus quipped as he exchanged a bemused look with Wyatt.

 

“Ya’ll must be Canadians.” she answered.  “Well this ain’t your fight, but I’ll welcome all the help I can get.”

 

“We’re gonna need a fool-proof plan.” Wyatt advised, “We have reason to believe the Confederates are being led by a spy…and well, he…he’s got all the plans the Union army has been working on for the rest of the war…if he’s allowed to keep doing what he’s doing…”

 

“Say goodbye to any chance at freedom.” Rufus finished with a solemn nod.

 

“Do you have any idea where these Confederates might be?  How many of them there are?” Wyatt asked.

 

She shook her head, “That Colonel Ryerson’s been causing all sorts of ruckus up and down these parts, him and his damn Rebs came out of nowhere, like they knew exactly what to do and where to go.”  She nodded knowingly, “From what I can tell, he’s holed up in the Middleton plantation right now.  I have a couple of kinfolk that works them fields…they can help us find your spy, if he’s there.” 

 

Wyatt considered their options.  He had no way to know if Lucy had made it to Beaufort, and even if they did scout out the position of the Confederate army, there would be no way to inform the Union army of their findings…not in time to do anything about it anyway.  They were stuck.  If this raid wasn’t going to take place the way it was supposed to, the least he could do was take out the damn sleeper so that he couldn’t cause even more damage to the timeline.  Going behind enemy lines wasn’t exactly the safest option, but they really had no choice.  Exchanging a dark look with Rufus, Wyatt nodded, “Lead on, General.”

 

She nodded towards a Confederate corpse, “You best get yourself a uniform, you’re gonna need it.”


End file.
